


Hail of Shadows

by Lizardbeth



Series: Understanding the Storm [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Frigga, Gen, Loki Has Issues, Loki Redemption, Nightmares, Parent Frigga, Parents & Children, Torture, already jossed by a trailer, redemption is a journey not a destination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 64,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Outside the boundaries of the Nine Realms, beyond the protective embrace of the World Serpent, waits a figure of nightmare and shadow, who leaves only death in his wake: Thanos the Eternal.  </p><p>Even as Loki vows revenge, dark forces are moving. Frigga knows only her family united will withstand the coming storm, even as the fates seem determined to rip them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught

**Author's Note:**

> First, I should mention that you should start at the beginning of this saga. While the plot is separate, if you head straight in here, you'll have missed how Frigga was a bamf and helped Loki get his crap more together after the movies. So I encourage you to read them first (Tales of the Storm are backstory ficlets - go back to the main stories in the sequence: Understanding the Storm, Prelude, and The Poison Rain). 
> 
> So here it is, starting exactly 100 days from the release of _Thor: The Dark World_ \- aka the movie that will utterly joss this story! Both the Dark Elves and Thanos are in this, but are pretty much of my own creation with a few comics tidbits - they're certainly not how they're going to be in the movies, since I started this even before the teaser came out. Also, Sigyn and Skadi are quite altered versions of their myth counterparts. So, just roll with the changes. :) 
> 
> Many thanks to [](http://hearts-blood.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://hearts-blood.dreamwidth.org/)**hearts_blood** for the beta. Everything left over is totally my doing. The story is complete, except for edits and formatting, and will total about 58K. Yes, this story is much bigger than the ones before, as other Realms start to impact Asgard, but it's still Loki and Frigga's story as they continue to deal with the aftermath. I hope you enjoy the journey!

* * *

 

Loki fell.

The void stretched endlessly all around him -- _nothingness_ binding him. Screaming without voice, the horror of it continuing on and on, pain seeping into his every cell until he prayed for death. Icy thorns settled into his mind, of regret and guilt and fury -- oh such rage to consume him and tear him asunder, until only madness was left to him.

Then he felt a welcome warmth, a light in the darkness that he fell toward. But it was not a light, it was a web, and within he was held fast. The more he struggled, the tighter the bonds. He tried to call on his magic, but it answered only as a pale flicker.

A dark shape approached, with footfalls like thunder and a voice like the bottom of the sea, "My pet. You have no tesseract, no Gauntlet…. You failed me."

The great head turned toward him, skin violet in the shadowy light. "Now I will play with you, traitor. I will break you until your only thought is to serve me."

"Never," Loki spat in defiance, even as a huge powerful hand seized his wrist and crushed it, grinding the bones until Loki cried out at the pain.

Thanos leaned closer, fetid breath in Loki's face. "You belong to me. You betrayed me, and so I will destroy everything you care about. Then I will bring you to heel, pet."

He reached toward Loki's face, and Loki flung himself back, trying to escape. The bonds slipped...

Loki opened his eyes, finding himself in his bed in his own quarters in Asgard. His heart was pounding and his wrist ached with an echo of the pain. Rubbing at it, he had to swallow and cast a spell to illuminate his room, both to chase away the shadows and to prove that he could.

It had been a nightmare. Thanos was not here. That had been a product of his fear, nothing more.

He rose, for a moment puzzled why he was in bed, since he thought he'd fallen asleep at his desk searching the crystals for information on how to unmake an Eternal.

But he stood, restless, curious to look for… something. Was it Thor he sought? Another scroll, perhaps. He would know when he found it.

The hallway outside the main door of his quarters, was deserted. As was the dining room, the corridor to the throne room, Odin's work room…

He couldn't find his family. Or guards. Or servants.

There was not a soul in the palace at all. Loki's footsteps quickened, until he was running, trying to find _anyone_.

In the grand hall, Loki raced through the emptiness of the long aisle, toward Odin, who was sitting in the massive throne atop the dais. Loki was glad to see someone in this strangely empty palace, and Odin could tell him what had happened.

"Father! Father!" Loki ran up the steps of the dais and raised his head. "Father--"

His voice died in his throat. That was not Odin in the throne.

Thanos.

Thanos was sitting in Odin's throne and wearing Odin's helmet. He grinned. "Did you think to escape, toy? Look behind you…"

He didn't want to see, but Loki turned. The great hall of Asgard wasn't empty -- it was full of corpses. In his mad dash toward the throne, Loki had run across bodies scattered in a bloody ruin of people he had known all his life.

Sif. Heimdall. The Warriors Three. Tyr. Freyr.

Odin lay at the foot of the dais, Gungnir pinning him to the ground through his heart.

Frigga lay crumpled to one side, her long golden hair trailing in a pool of blood, and Thor to the other side, his heart torn out of his chest.

All dead.

"No." Loki whispered, fear and horror tangled within him as he looked on the scene of devastation.

"No, no, no!" he cried out and raised his arms to cast something in desperate need to stop it, to stop everything. Not like this, it couldn't happen like this, not everyone, not death in Asgard. He would break Asgard to its foundations and have the Serpent devour them all…

A massive hand seized him by the neck before he could choke out a word. "Tell my lady I will lay the Nine Realms at her feet when you see her again. That is my gift," Thanos whispered into his ear.

As he felt the pressure tighten on his throat and he knew that Thanos was going to strangle him or break his neck, Loki awoke abruptly.

He was at his desk, cheek against the table before he snapped upright. This time he knew he was truly awake, but that settled nothing of the fear still rushing through him from the dream. He ran to the balcony to grip the balustrade and gulp cooler air.

The sounds of metal clashing of some fighters sparring with weapons down in the garden, smithcraft banging beyond that, and the horses and birds were signs of life, and slowly he calmed himself.

Dreams. Dreams within dreams. It was fear, nothing more. Childish, weak fearfulness of shadows. He was stronger than this; he had to be stronger than this or these dreams would come to pass.

 _Be more like Thor, less like yourself,_ he told himself savagely. _Stop being a coward. Find the answer. Make a plan. Thanos will not frighten you when you know how to kill him. And you will, because all things that live can also die. All things that exist can be unmade_.

Resolved, he turned and headed back to the archive.

* * *

From the higher terrace Frigga watched Loki striding purposefully through the outer gardens.

Though there were others on the grounds, he avoided them all, once by cloaking himself with invisibility as he approached the fountain court and the small group enjoying the cool beauty there, before returning to view once he had turned the corner on the other side. He did it without breaking stride, almost by reflex, wanting to get to the archives without interruption.

She frowned, at this proof of isolation. He had spoken to few people outside the family since his return and avoided the feasting hall. It was worrisome. Loki would claim it was for the best, and he might believe that, but she knew without more than a few slender threads to hold him up, he might still fall. She needed to tie a web to him so he would understand he was not alone.

She would plan the formal reconciliation ceremony. That would announce to the realm publicly that Loki was returned to his family again. Fortunately few knew the truth of any of his deeds, and it would be a simple matter to ignore it as rumor.

But the other, perhaps more important, task was to rebuild those friendships which had withered over the years.

Frigga's eyes found Sif and Fandral in the western court of sport playing handball while others watched and cheered them on. Sif was the key. The Warriors Three tended to follow her lead if Thor was not around.

Sending a message for Sif to attend her before meridian, Frigga returned to her study with the palace maester to plan the ceremony.

As the sun crowned the sky, Frigga waited in her garden and was pleased when Sif found her there. "My queen. You have summoned me?"

Frigga turned. Sif looked uncomfortable and Frigga smiled in welcome. "Sif, please." She waved her closer. "I wished to speak with you."

Sif avoided the flowers that seemed drawn to her curiously. "As you wish."

Frigga checked the sakken herb and plucked several leaves to send to the kitchen for Loki's plate. "You are aware that Loki is returned?"

"Yes." Sif nodded and added politely, "His survival is a miracle. You must be pleased."

"Oh, I am overjoyed. But far less pleased by what had been done to him in his absence."

Sif hesitated. "Then, the rumor is true? That he was… ill because of Thanos?"

Frigga sniffed the mint on her fingers. "Yes, Thanos plucked him from certain death and was able, in his weakness and despair, to set a sort of oily taint upon him to force him to acquire a certain treasure. The Allfather and I freed him of it. But --" She looked to Sif. "Thanos was not what caused his acts with the Destroyer when he attacked Thor and you upon Midgard."

Sif's eyes went to the door as if she wanted out of there, and plainly she had no idea what to say. "I see."

"No, you do not." Frigga's voice at first was sharp and then she softened into a sigh. "Nor did I until recently, when his angry words under the influence revealed to me certain truths that he has kept long hidden from us all. I will not divulge his secrets, but he had more cause to anger and resentment than is apparent." Sif frowned at that, and Frigga could see possibilities of secrets flit across her features, memories of rumors quashed long ago, but Sif would not come to the truth. "The Allfather and I are working on healing this breach, and thus I would request that you do the same, if you will."

"What would you have me do, my queen?" Sif asked, trying not to sound uncertain, but her eyes gave her away.

Frigga smiled. "Speak with him. Try to work your way to healing and forgiveness. He once held you in high regard, and it pains me to see you two so divided."

Frigga could see the temptation to resist pass through Sif's eyes; the idea that talking was a weakness. For her, standing in this garden was weak and not becoming a warrior. Sif had to fight to take her place at Thor's side as a warrior, when women warriors were not common. Frigga was not unaware of what Sif's opinion of her was: the queen was a sorceress, a healer, a mother. One who needed protection, not a protector. That Frigga was soft.

Inwardly she smiled and wanted to shake her head: _Someday, child, I will show you my armor and you will see that the world does not cleave itself so neatly_.

"He divides his time between the archive and his chambers, and he will not approach you," Frigga murmured, turning to the flowers again. "So you must be the brave one and seek him out."

"I will do what I can, my queen," Sif answered, bowing her head.

"Thank you, my dear."

* * *

 

Frigga hesitated at the doorway, for a moment content to watch. Loki had his head bent toward the loremaster of the archives, listening intently as the white-bearded elder spoke.

But as Loki listened, he shook his head in denial and before Wulfgar had finished, Loki interrupted fiercely, "No. That is unacceptable. There's another answer."

"Do you think you are the first to believe so, prince? The first to look into these mysteries?" Wulfgar challenged. "Allfather searched as well, in the springtime of the Realms. These are not new paths."

Loki frowned, fingers folded beneath his chin, his eyes like shards of glass as they reflected the light while he contemplated the depths of the archive. "There is an answer. But… you are right. I will not find it treading well-worn paths."

"Are you certain you truly wish an answer? By challenging an Eternal, you also challenge the Celestials," Wulfgar warned.

Loki smiled feral and sharp. "Good. They surely can unmake what they made."

"You would stand before them and ask they destroy their creation?"

"Ask?" Loki repeated, trying the word in his mouth and his smile widened as he rose to his feet. "Nay, never ask. I am far too impertinent for that."

"And full of guile," Wulfgar added, but it was said with some affectionate despair and Loki did not react in offense, merely chuckle.

"Oh, always." Loki turned and noticed her in the doorway with little surprise. "Mother? What brings you to the archive?"

Wulgar began to rise before she gestured him to remain. "Please, Wulfgar, no need. I wanted to speak with Loki, so I must ask your forgiveness and take our leave from your wisdom."

"Aye, my queen. But it has been good to see the prince back where he belongs these last few days," Wulfgar said.

Loki's footstep hesitated at the words and then he went back to Wulfgar, lifting the loremaster's cup between his hands and whispering. As soon as steam curled above the surface, he set the cup down. "Your tea is warm again, Wulfgar. I will return anon."

They left the archive and proceeded across the garden. She smiled at him and tucked a hand around his arm, aware of everyone who could see them and making a small show of their closeness and her approval. "That was kind of you."

"It would be, except I cooled it in the first place," he admitted, darting a glance at her.

She sighed, knowing she should've expected that. Some things had not changed. "Why?"

"He kept telling me it was impossible. I dislike hearing that. Especially after I told him I knew there was an answer and I would find it."

"Loki, pranks on the loremaster--"

"It was harmless. And I fixed it," he protested.

She would have asked why he bothered to do it in the first place then, but that was like asking why ice was cold. She glanced at him with disapproval but let it go. Small pranks were a better outlet for his impatience and annoyance than smuggling enemies into Asgard and accidentally starting a war. They started up the steps to the terrace. "Surely I did not hear you correctly that you intend to be _impertinent_ with the Celestials?"

"They are powerful, but they are not gods," he said with a dismissive flick of his fingers.

"That is what the Midgardians say about you, my son."

His step hesitated, ever so briefly, but then he squared his shoulders and continued. "Nevertheless it is an option. And I know from the reaction it has not been tried before."

"No," she agreed. "It was not thought likely. Banishment seemed more promising."

Loki shook his head. "Yet it was temporary, a patch on torn cloth, not woven in repair. I seek a more permanent solution."

The guards saluted as she and Loki passed within the high corridor with its streaming colors of light from the windows.

She was not about to wager against him, but she held her doubts privately that it was possible. If Odin had been unable to _wound_ Thanos and had resorted to thrusting him outside Yggdrasil to protect the Nine Realms, it was unlikely Loki could do more. "For all our sakes I hope you find the answer, but remember, it is no solution to exchange one great uncontrolled power for another."

"I am not _that_ powerful, Mother," he retorted.

She glanced at him, smiling. "I was not speaking of you, you conceited creature."

He chuckled, and at the top of the steps that led to the family quarters, he stopped. "To where now?"

She led him back outside to her garden; it was a familiar place to him, but he paused on seeing the new addition of the strong, young beech with the bright green leaves and silvery bark that now stood in the center of the grass.

"I told you," she murmured from his side, "I planted it for you, when I thought you gone."

"It is… lovely," he said, sounding a little stunned by this proof that she had mourned his death.

She sat beneath the sheltering boughs in the soft grass and gestured him to join her. He knelt, sitting on his heels, and lifted his gaze to the tree again in some wonder.

"Every day, I sat beneath this tree," she murmured, saddened that he had doubted her, "and I attempted to scry for you, unable to believe in my heart that you were truly lost. And every day, I found nothing. I was inconsolable, but then Odin brought news of a miracle: that Heimdall had seen you on Midgard. Despite what lore and wisdom both said of falling between the Realms, you lived."

"Even though it came at such a price?" he asked, casting his eyes down to his hands.

She laid a hand on his knee. "Had Thanos returned you to us, there might have been alliance and forgiveness; there certainly would have been truce. You were a useful tool for him, but it is he who brings war, Loki, not you."

He nodded once, accepting her words but with some hesitation.

She decided to continue with what she wanted to ask him. "I need to know something. When Thor impetuously brought down the barrier and you struck him, what would you have done if it had been me?"

He blinked, having not expected this line of conversation at all, then looked down at the grass to avoid her eyes. "I'm glad it was not."

So was she, but that was not the question. "Would the darkness have struck at me?"

She could see the comforting lie rise up in the beginnings of a smile, but the false smile faded away unfinished. "I - I think, yes," he said after a moment, barely above a whisper. "I do not recall any _intent_ to strike him. I did not realize what I had done until he lay before me. I intended only to strike myself, my own death as the path to freedom."

"To believe death is your only path…" her voice choked in her throat and she shut her eyes, trying to hold onto what she meant to discuss with him in the face of this horror. She inhaled a shaky breath. "By your own hand…"

His voice seemed dry but pained as well. "The doors to Valhalla were locked against me long ago."

Her eyes opened again, as she became suddenly furious, and she glared at him, even through the sheen of her tears. "You do not know that. You cannot. You _presume_. And so you surrender to despair, when if only you held fast, you would have the victory."

"I saw no path to victory."

"Because you refused to create one," she told him. "You had no faith in yourself, or in me. You saw no way out because you chose not to fight for one."

He bent his head, in acceptance of her censure, and considering the lack of angry protest, in acknowledgment that she was also right. He kept his eyes on his fingers as he wove long strands of grass idly together and said nothing.

"What would have happened if that blow you gave to Thor, had killed me?" she asked, more softly.

He raised stricken eyes to her, shaking his head. "No, I would _never_ \--" he protested, and fell silent when she wrapped a hand around his.

"No, you would not," she reassured him. "Not of your own will. I know that. But I fear if it happened in thrall or mistake, you would lose yourself in rage and guilt, and in your madness, you would become a force for destruction and death. I do not want that to be my legacy, my son. Not ever."

He hesitated, lips trembling before he shook his head. "Do not ask this of me," he pleaded in a whisper. "You-- without you, I know not what I would do."

But she saw it in his eyes: _In grief and fury I will burn them all until, at last, someone makes an end of it and of me_.

"Loki…" she started in protest but trailed off into a sigh. She had done this, and she could not expect it to change so quickly.

"No flower metaphor to demonstrate the transience of life, even on Asgard?" he asked, lifting a brow, teasing her when she didn't finish.

She had to smile at that. "I need not say it if you already know." But then she held his eyes. "You are stronger than you believe, but you must learn to stand firm against the winds of fate. I may not always be there."

He lifted his head proudly, as if he were about to declare an intent to stand alone, but reconsidered to speak truer words. "And if the storm sweeps me away instead?" He launched his woven blades of grass into the breeze, lofting it high with a gust from a whispered spell.

She coaxed the grass to twirl down and land in her palm like a tiny bird. "That is why we need others to catch us."

She handed it back to him, and he took it between his fingers with a flicker of a smile. Narrowing his eyes with concentration, he clenched a fist around it. She felt a flash of power and when he opened his fingers, the simple grass had transformed into a small spray of tiny lily-bells. "And only when we are caught can we become better than we are," he answered and offered the sprig to her.

To her surprised delight, she found the blossoms were real, not illusion. "Beautiful transmutation, thank you." She tucked it into her hair, winning a grin from him for how silly it must look stuck haphazardly above her ear but she left it there anyway. Not every mother in the Nine Realms had a son who could _make_ her flowers, after all.

She kept the flowers in her hair, long after he had departed to return to the archive, hoping he meant what he'd said.

 

* * *

_to be continued..._


	2. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki encounters wider Asgard and finds that the answers won't be easy to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think the posting days will be Tues and Friday at least for a couple of weeks. I may have to rethink this plan when I leave on vacay at the end of the month, but I'll update my tumblr with status. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the story!

* * *

This one wouldn't work either. 

With a gesture of his hand, Loki swept everything from the top of the table to crash to the floor, angry at the failure. 

Five unbinding spells, all of them too weak. What he needed were the ones so dangerous no one would write them down. Or create his own.

Running a hand through his hair, he rose from the table to pick his way across the floor to the sideboard to pour himself wine. Vodka, now there was a drink of the gods, especially chilled. It was the only thing he missed from his time on Midgard. 

After draining the glass, he went to his balcony to inhale the air and look out at the city. It was all too easy to imagine it burning, its shining towers ruined, people dead or enslaved. He cast his eyes upward to the aurora that shimmered even in daylight above, as if a reflection of the Bifrost.

 _Where are you, Thanos? Now that your effort to suborn me has failed, where have you turned? Do you spread your poison among the sheep on Midgard or somewhere less certain? Did the Other die with Stark's bomb or is he still your bannerman?_

_Jormungandr shivers at your touch, as you whisper to someone inside. I can almost hear you_ … he closed his eyes then to extend his sense outward, beyond the energies of Asgard itself, the void, and the great serpent that enclosed all. _Where are you? If I walk the shadowpaths will I find where you lurk? Or is that what you want, that I weaken the barrier enough to draw you within_?

A knock on the outer door interrupted his litany of unanswered questions. It was a relief at first, but his family wouldn't knock and he had no wish to see anyone else. He ignored the knock, trusting that without his permission the door would remain closed, but only a few seconds later, he heard the door open.

The bold footsteps of Sif headed across the floor, recognizable before he heard her voice calling, "Loki? Are you here?"

Biting his lip, he refused to confirm his presence and was tempted to cast invisibility and avoid her altogether. But she would only try again, so there was no point. 

Her voice came more clearly, at the doorway behind him. "Loki?"

He did not turn, greeting her coolly, "Lady Sif. I see my mother's hand in this visit." 

She did not deny it, and he knew he was right. It had not been Sif's idea. Any curiosity about why she was here burned away.

She inhaled a deep breath and approached. "May I speak with you?"

"There is nothing you might say that interests me." His eyes flicked to her and back to the city, unwilling to give her more. 

"I thought you were… better," she murmured, disappointed. 

Oh, that was irritating -- as if this was _his_ fault. "You thought I would forget?" he asked. "I will tolerate your presence because Thor wishes it, but I will not pretend we are friends. You proved yourself false. At a time I most needed your help and your friendship, you turned your back and you betrayed me."

She hesitated. "Thor was supposed to be king--"

He turned to glare at her. "That was not the betrayal-- that much I could forgive. But I held Gungnir; I _heard_ your words. All these years we fought together, knew one another, and you believed I had deliberately harmed my own father to steal the throne? Or I engineered Thor's exile, when that he did all on his own."

She froze, abruptly realizing that his anger was something quite different from what she had expected. "I -- I know that now," she protested.

"But you did not then. You believed me such a monster." He let out a brief bitter laugh. "And so I am, but not that." He flicked his fingers and the balcony doors banged open in unsubtle invitation. "You may go."

She didn't move. "You sent the Destroyer after me. That was the greater offense."

"Oh, I think false friendship is the far worse offense since it was not after you. You think it missed you by accident?" he taunted. "Pity, really. It might have given you what you have always longed for -- to die in Thor's arms." 

She swung her arm to hit him, but he seized her wrist, staggering back a step but catching her tightly, narrowing his eyes. "No, Lady. I am done taking hurts from you or anyone else." He shoved her away and then paced back to the open doorway to regard her with cold politeness, "Take consolation, Lady Sif. You think me such a villain, but I am the villain who will stand between you and Thanos when he comes to burn this place to ash. I will save this place, even when everyone in it expects the worst of me." 

He whirled and though he heard her call his name, he didn't pause on his way out. 

 

* * *

Frigga smoothed the little girl's hair and smiled at her. "You fare better, sweetling. It is good to see." 

The girl smiled back, still pale from her fever, but doing much better after the chimaera attack had poisoned her. Thankfully Tyr's hunting party had finally killed the beast that had threatened the people of the outer farms. 

She gave her instructions to the staff and said her farewells to the girl and her mother, to be met by one of her guards. "My queen, Lord Fandral sends to you urgently, that there has been an accident in Prince Loki's quarters." 

"With him in it?" she demanded, but didn't wait for the answer, heading down the steps of the palace's western ward of healing. 

"I know not, your grace." 

She didn't quite run, but it was a near thing, until she found Fandral waiting with two guards and a pair of household servants in the corridor outside Loki's doors. The doors stood shut, and she frowned at Fandral severely, wondering why, if there had been a terrible accident, they were all standing around doing nothing.

Fandral came to meet her. "My queen, there was a tremendous crash," he explained hurriedly. "The floor trembled. When there was no answer to my hail, I entered. Everything looked … exploded, within. Loki seemed unhurt, but he was in a vile temper and had me leave. I believe some magic has gone terribly awry." 

She let out a breath that Loki was unhurt, though her relief transferred to disapproval that he had been so rude to Fandral. "No doubt. Forgive him his mood, Fandral; he has been deeply focused of late." That was understatement; she had heard a report from Wulfgar that Loki had not stirred from the depths of the archive in a full day. "I will tend to him. Thank you for being concerned." 

He bowed deeply. "Of course." 

As soon as she opened the door, Frigga gasped on seeing the destruction. Despite Fandral's words, she had not pictured the damage accurately, and she turned to the servants waiting behind her. "Tell the maester I need him here at once. There is much restoration work." She found Fandral's sword on the floor; apparently, he had not been exaggerating Loki's temper, if Fandral had left his sword within and not retrieved it. She toed the sword into the hall for him and closed the door behind her on her way to find Loki. 

The sitting room looked as if Loki might have called forth and battled some eldritch beast. The furniture was all overturned or smashed up against the walls. His windows had blown out and the doors to the balcony and to his sleeping chamber lay on the floor, so the outside wind whistled through the chambers, stirring the papers and parchments into disarray.

Loki stood in the midst of it, and thankfully did seem unharmed, though his hair still held a few light-colored splinters tangled in it. His arms were folded, as he glared at the Casket, which was in the middle of the floor, sitting in ominous isolation. 

"I told Fandral I am well," he snapped, not looking at her. "I can manage on my own." She held her silence until he said in a more acceptable tone of voice, "Thank you for coming to check on me, but I do not need assistance, Mother."

She was still not going to be dismissed like that. "What occurred?" 

"Attempted my own spell of unmaking. It went poorly." 

Her lips pressed together so she wouldn't smile at his irritable understatement. "Your own?"

"I thought I understood the concept from the others, so I made some refinements--" He bent to the floor to gather a disordered sheaf of notes, shuffling through them hastily before finding one to present to her. "This one." He pointed at the bottom of the page full of scrawl. Loki's handwriting was never very legible, but this one was particularly difficult. While she was deciphering it, he rescued a side-table that was overturned, but intact, and set it where his work table had been.

She tore off a corner of the sheet and held it in her other hand, while she called the spell and murmured the words. First the ink dissolved away into nothingness, and then with a flash the paper was gone. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise and she smiled. "It works." 

He snatched the paper away from her and crumpled it, flinging it to the ground. "It works on simple things. It breaks organic molecules. Nothing more than that." 

"' _Nothing more than that_ '?" she repeated, incredulous. "Loki, that is a great accomplishment to design a new working spell of any kind, and you did it in a day." 

He shrugged, dismissing the achievement as meaningless, and gestured toward the splintered furniture in sullen rejection of her praise. "At higher power, it failed what I wanted it to do." 

"Well, I think it impressive." But he wasn't listening to her, so she changed her tack, adding more lightly, "It may not kill Thanos, but it will get wine stains out of the table cloths." 

He froze, and he eyed her sidelong to see if she was serious. When he saw that she was, he looked at her fully, arms raised at his side as if to embrace the immensity of his confusion and disbelief at her words. "I am trying to kill a god, and you think of wine stains?" 

She smiled and retrieved the paper, smoothing it out flat again as she spoke. "I'm certain I can think of more uses than that, but the point is, just because it failed for one purpose does not make it useless." 

His gaze fell, a thoughtful expression replacing his irritability. A fleeting wry twist to his lips formed as he looked at her again. "You could think of no gardening use? I expect gardening metaphors with my lessons."

She laughed and plucked one of the splinters from his hair before he could duck away. "Try again, Loki. The universe is made of chaos, and it desires order --binding is always easier than unbinding. But still, chaos calls and all things must bow to it in the end. You need to encourage both principles, I think." 

He nodded thoughtfully. "Not destruction alone." 

"I think not, as the Celestials will certainly have countered that. But perhaps if you could encourage the binding beyond its limit… overload it surreptitiously…?"

He smirked. "Sneak up on it? Come at it with guile, not with a hammer?"

"You may as well work to your strengths."

He nodded and gathered up the other papers before the wind pulled them outside. He stacked them on the table and set the Casket on them, and she was amused to see such an object of power being used as a paperweight. 

"I also came to bring you to the feasting hall," she said. 

He turned away, grimacing. "I - I do not wish to attend. I'm in no mood for festivities." 

"You need to make some public appearance now that you are returned to us. It is not every day Tyr kills a menace." She smiled and teased gently, "And Thor had nothing to do with it." 

His flashing look was not amused and he bent to pick up his ink well, rolling it in his hands. "The feasting hall? It is my least favorite place, full of drunkards and gluttons and rudeness…. And false friends." He glanced at her and added, "No, Sif and I did not reconcile, despite your manipulations." 

"I merely asked her to speak with you. That is hardly a manipulation." He looked down at the ink well, still irritated but unwilling to argue with her about it. "Come, you have been too much alone."

"I have more important things to do than empty carousing."

She couldn't really blame him for his reluctance. Even before the revelation of the secret and his subsequent … lapses, the feasting hall was where Thor flourished and Loki had never been fully comfortable there. He especially would not be now. But there was a time when being a prince meant doing things for public consumption, not personal desire, and this was one of those times. "This is not a request; your presence is required. You need not stay past the meal, and you need not be overly pleased about it, but I need you to be there. And in two days' time I have planned a ceremony to demonstrate publicly that you are returned to us." 

His expression looked as if he was chewing thorns, and he would rather do anything but what she commanded. She could see his mind start to manufacture some reason to stay away, and so, before he could come up with something reckless like Frost Giants in the Treasury again, she added, "Loki, when there is war, you will be needed. And the people will need to have faith in you. How are they to do that if you hide yourself away in your room?"

He gave a jerky nod, still looking mutinous, but she decided to accept his assent as given. "Good. Then ready yourself. At the top of the hour, you may escort me, after I change my gown." 

He bowed his head more fluidly, pleased at the chance to escort her, when ordinarily that would be Odin's place. But Odin was busy inspecting the outer fortifications and she did not expect him back until later.

And if she had a hand on Loki's arm, she could be sure he wouldn't find something desperately urgent calling him away.

 

* * *

Thor was telling the story of his fight alongside Hulk atop the giant flying Chitauri beast to an appreciative audience, when the hall quieted and people began standing to acknowledge that Frigga had arrived. She had her hand tucked around Loki's arm. 

Thor bounded to his feet, grinning at the sight. She had finally pulled Loki from his room. Given the silence that fell, Thor was not the only one stunned by this change. Loki had a wary look, as if he expected someone in the audience to pull a knife on him, but at least he was present. He led her to her chair at the high table in the uneasy silence.

"To the queen!" Volstagg lifted his great horn in salute, and it echoed thunderously in the hall. 

She smiled, lifting one hand in acknowledgment, as she seated herself and gestured Loki to sit at her left.

Immediately, staff began bringing the platters to her for her to select what she wanted. Thor slapped Hogun's back as he passed on his way up to the high table to stand before them, hearing one of the servers say to Loki, "I am sorry, my lord, it will be a few moments. The kitchen sent your meal to the royal family dining room by mistake."

Loki waved him off with polite words of indifference to his meal's destination. 

"So, brother, you have stirred yourself into sociability," Thor declared and grabbed the pitcher to pour ale into his mother and Loki's goblets. 

Loki flicked his eyes toward Frigga and scowled. "Not by my choice." 

"But now you are here and it's not so terrible, is it?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips as she touched his arm. 

"No, of course not." Loki's eyes roamed the hall behind Thor, watching the laughing and drinking that had restarted already after the brief quiet. He had a distant look on his face, as if he was observing strangers, not people he'd known most of his life.

Thor's eyes met Frigga's and he saw the same worry in hers that he felt. 

Then, perhaps feeling their concern, Loki made himself smile at them. "When last I was here, I was king. Strange how fortunes may reverse so quickly."

"You are with us," Frigga murmured. "Where you belong." She transferred a bunch of golden grapes to his plate. "You can eat these while you wait for yours. I mistrust anything else when they thought you would not be here."

"But the ale is good, brother. Drink." Thor pushed the cup closer. "Destroying your room surely must make a powerful thirst." 

Loki chuckled, protesting, "I did not!" 

Thor was relieved he seemed to relax. "Fandral says otherwise." 

"He exaggerates." 

"Not very much. You made a good start on complete destruction," Frigga said drily. "Next time, experiment in a safer place, without furniture and windows to smash."

"Yes, Mother." He rolled his eyes and sipped at the ale, plucking the grapes idly. 

"Thor!" Volstagg called out, making Thor turn. "You did not finish your story!" 

"We killed it, Volstagg, what think you happened?" Thor called back.

The roar of approval was gratifying, but got much less so when Volstagg asked, "And Loki? You were there, were you not? What part had you in this great battle?"

Loki stilled, uncertain how to answer, and then he drew himself up, a flash in his eyes as if he planned to spit out the entire truth that the battle had been his doing -- something Thor had deliberately left out. Frigga lifted her cup to cover her mouth and warned in a voice only the three of them could hear, "Loki, no."

Glancing at her, he reconsidered his words and answered Volstagg, "I was there, yes. I fought. It was no great victory though." There were some gasps and whispers at that, and Volstagg looked to Thor as if Thor should be insulted by that. Loki's hand fisted, heedless of the grapes in it that he squeezed to juice. "The Chitauri fought badly, depending foolishly on their numbers with no sense of tactics. They did not listen to their commander, falling into unformed melee like a herd of aggressive _goats_." 

That won Loki a laugh from those who heard, but Thor was surprised to hear that the Chitauri had not obeyed Loki's commands. That at least explained why their attack had disintegrated --he'd thought better of Loki's tactical ability. Though it was a bit unnerving as well, since he'd also taken the incompetence to have been evidence of Loki's internal struggle, and now he found out that it had simply been the enemy's own lack of discipline.

This topic was straying into difficult territory though, and Thor moved to change the subject. "We cannot always depend on our enemies' incompetence, but it worked in our favor, brother," Thor announced and raised his cup. "To the defeat of our enemies!" 

Loki joined the toast. "To the defeat of Thanos."

"And to Loki, who thwarted certain death and has tirelessly sought a way to destroy Thanos these past few days!" Thor called and crashed his cup into Loki's. His brother's eyes met his over the rims, wide with surprise that Thor would make such a gesture. With Thor leading the salute and the queen joining it, even the most reluctant of Loki's supporters drank to him. Thor laughed to see Loki stunned to see all raising their cups to him.

They all had drink and smashed the cups to call for more. Soon Loki's supper was laid before him - two small tureens and a plate displaying a multicolored chimaera sculpture made of vegetable slivers that drew everyone's eye in appreciation. "Astonishing," Loki told the servitors. "Shall I eat it, or place it in the Hall of Treasures? Give my thanks to Hilde most profoundly for this delight."

The two youngsters bowed and left, looking a bit pole-axed but pleased from the praise.

Hogun came up to them as Loki was lifting off the lids to the tureens to inspect what was within each. "Have you had much success in your venture to find a way to kill Thanos?" he asked Loki. 

"Not yet," Loki answered politely, busy with his soup.

"Is it so difficult?" Hogun asked.

Loki's hand tightened on his spoon, and he answered in a level, chill tone quite at odds with his previous warmth to the staff. "It is said to be impossible."

"But Loki will not accept that answer, and neither do I," Thor said. "Come, Hogun, give him a chance to think upon more pleasant things. This is a celebration." 

He coaxed Hogun to go back and sit down, and let them draw him into a tale of his sparring with Iron Man so Loki could eat in peace.

Once in a while he cast his eye up to the high table where Frigga and Loki conversed, sitting apart from the carousing going on at the lower tables. Frigga smiled widely and bestowed her goblet on Tyr in thanks for his deed killing the menace, doing her part of the celebration. But Loki looked alternately morose or bored, as if he were watching a dull entertainment he couldn't wait to escape. Thor wanted to take him by the scruff of the neck and put him down in the middle of the lower hall and _make_ him be merry. But right now that was like asking a stone to dance. 

Thor leaned back in the bench, listening with only half an ear to Volstagg's story about how his youngest son was useless with a bow, except when he used it as a quarterstaff. 

Behind him, from one of the tables at the wall, a snatch of conversation caught his attention, "… _used that Frost Giant treasure_." 

" _Heard the king gave it to him when he wasn't dead after all_." 

That meant Loki, and Thor concentrated to listen, figuring they were gossiping about the rumble that had shaken much of the palace from Loki's experiment. 

" _But my cousin is a guard, says he was held a prisoner in the underhall. The king said he was dead to hide he was mad as a cat in a skillet_."

" _Shush. He's looking at us_."

" _He can't hear us. What can he do anyway? He's no warrior, only books and magic. Kill Thanos? More likely to go over to him. Everybody knows he did something to the king to become regent, right_?" 

Thor stilled. That was no idle gossip; that was insult. While Thor would have been forced to let it go if it had been something true, that was an ugly lie. It offended the queen as well, as she had confirmed the Odinsleep had no external cause.

Thor turned to see who was speaking, but couldn't spot them, and when he stood up, they fell silent so it could have been anybody. He glared at the tables in that direction: some people looked confused by his attention, some abashed, and some wouldn't meet his eyes at all.

But shortly it became clear who the two were, and that someone else was quite aware of that. Higund, of the long dark hair and long beard that made him look half dwarf, reached up to scratch his head. He shuddered and scratched some more, as Jorlo beside him brushed at his own neck as if a small insect or spider were crawling on him. 

Thor glanced at Loki, who was dipping pieces of his vegetable basilisk into sauce and appeared to be ignoring the hall completely. But his eyes kept flicking to the polished metal side of his goblet as if watching something there. He knew.

The two fighters scratched at their heads and beards more, as if they had bugs in their hair. Jorlo leapt to his feet, reaching under his tunic to scratch his belly. When they saw they were both doing it, they realized it wasn't natural. 

"My lord! There is some foul sorcery afoot!" Higund said to him, realizing Thor was watching him and hoping he would intercede.

Which Thor had no intention of doing, especially since he recognized the voice as belonging to one of the offensive speakers. Thor gave a tight little smile that told them both he knew. "You should probably bathe, Higund, before you spread whatever it is you carry." 

A round of laughter from the group who was listening made them flush with embarrassment. "Were I in your place, I would ask forgiveness before my brother becomes _very_ offended," Thor added, glancing deliberately at the high table, and folded his arms. It was not a suggestion. 

At the high table, Loki lifted his goblet to drink and oh-so-casually looked their way as if he were only just noticing what was happening. Thor expected him to be amused, but he was not. He didn't smirk as Thor escorted Higund and Jorlo to the high table, and his eyes were pale daggers as the two men came up to the table, still scratching at invisible, non-existent bugs.

Loki set his goblet down. "Know this," Loki said to them before they could speak, and his voice was cold enough to put a chill down Thor's back. "I hear _everything_ \--if you speak my name in another Realm, I hear it. There is no place in Asgard I will not hear what you say of me, so be very careful when you offer insult again. I learned a great many things from books, and I promise my next response will not be something so _mild_. Am I understood?" 

Higund and Jorlo both looked a bit terrified. Thor was surprised, as this was an open threat of magical retaliation, which Loki had been forbidden long ago. He had followed that restriction publicly, even while everyone knew he avenged slights with trickery. But Loki was now tossing aside that rule of their father's, made bold by his reconciliation with Odin perhaps.

The two warriors glanced at Frigga, as if expecting her to intervene. But she returned their look without speaking, no intent of involving herself, and they bowed to Loki hurriedly. "Yes, my lord. We ask forgiveness and swear we will not speak thus of you again."

"I hope so. For your sakes." Loki gestured, twisting his fingers as if pulling something away from the two men. He rubbed his fingers together, and a dozen small ruby-shelled roaches fell from his hand and scurried across the table toward the two warriors, who took nervous steps back. Loki grinned, enjoying their fear, before he flicked his fingers again and the crimson roaches vanished. 

They lowered their hands, looking relieved.

Frigga commanded sharply, "You may leave us." 

They bowed again to her and hurried from the hall. Gradually, the carousing resumed, as the others realized the show was over. Loki picked up his spoon and stirred his soup, without tasting it. The smirk was fixed on his lips, but Thor thought it was for the benefit of anyone watching. Loki seemed little pleased with the confrontation.

"You should have challenged them," Thor suggested. "You could beat them both at spears with ease. You know warriors like that would make fewer comments if you showed your strength." 

Loki's lip curled in a sneer. "My _strength_ is not in hacking at things. Duels are a waste of my time. As is this. Mother, am I finished to your satisfaction?"

She pressed her lips together and glanced at Loki's half-eaten meal, but agreed with a nod. Loki shoved back his chair and left with an expression that promised more illusory bugs to the person unwise enough to step in his path.

Thor sat in his abandoned chair to taste what was left. Hilde enjoyed the challenge of making Loki's dishes and finding something new, whether by preparation or presentation, to present to him. Frigga had often expressed her satisfaction that she was able to enforce more fresh fruits and vegetables at the main table because of him. But some dishes remained his exclusively, like his apple baked in sakken leaf which he liked for dessert, but made Thor wrinkle his nose at the strange combination of tastes. 

Frigga sipped at her ale and murmured, "So a few words from two insignificant fools undo in an instant what a fortnight of our words had put together."

"It is not so--" Thor started but fell quiet at a look from her.

"Do you believe he will return to this hall in the foreseeable future?" she asked and he had to shake his head in the negative. "You are right, Thor; foolish warriors like Jorlo would never say such things if Loki trounced them at spears. But he remembers when dueling did nothing to change how others thought of him and caused him pain. He rejected that path a long time ago. Suggesting he is not enough as he is, is hurtful. You should know that by now." 

"But I--" he started in some confusion. He had intended only to be helpful, to give Loki a solution to ease the insulting comments, and even Frigga agreed that he was right. 

Frigga interrupted kindly, "Thor, you do not tell him at every meal how much better yours is than his."

He blinked at her, not understanding her point, and rather offended by the suggestion that he would think of doing that to his brother. "Of course not." 

She smiled at him. "So do not tell him at every confrontation that your way is better. He is who he is, and you cannot force a nightflower to become a silverbell, though the silverbell would fit into the garden better." She patted his arm. "Our nightflower is prickly and proud, and we should teach our people to appreciate its beauty, not wish it was something else."

Thor's gaze lifted to the tables below, still laden with the torn-apart roasts, bowls of custards, and strong cheeses that Loki could not eat, and then Thor dropped his gaze to the delicate plate before him and its separate contents. A flash of memory of an upset cry -- " _I only wanted to be your equal!"_ \-- made his stomach twist with new understanding. He never would tell Loki that his meal was better -- Loki had never needed to be told that, when every day put it in his face. He ate differently and he fought differently, but why should that be treated as something less? Battles were won by lore and magic, as much as by sword and hammer. Thor knew that better than anyone. But for so long Thor had tried to force Loki to change, be a warrior, to fit in, when Loki had been reminded daily that he did not and never would.

In the spirit of newer understanding, Thor finished the remaining half of Loki's dessert and found the apple seemed to melt on his tongue sweetly and the sakken herb added a tangy bite. It was different, but delicious.

* * *

tbc...


	3. Chamber of Winds

* * *

The feast was continuing, but Thor had grown bored of it, especially now that so many were deep in their cups and Frigga had left. 

He was intending to seek out Loki and see how his chambers fared, when he spied the very target of his interest slinking across the far end of the hall, carrying the Casket of the Ancient Winters in both hands. 

Thor hurried to meet him. Loki and sneaking were never a good combination, and certainly not when he had an object of such power in his hands. "Loki!"

Ahead of him, Loki's step paused and then he slowly turned, a smile fixed to his lips. "Thor."

"What are you doing?" Thor tried to keep his question curious, not accusing, since Loki responded poorly to being doubted.

He still stiffened. "I worked while you were carousing in the hall. I need to take this to a safer place to perform another test."

"You do this now? It is late."

Loki gave a shrug. "No matter." 

"Ah, I will walk with you."

Loki grimaced as if he very much wanted to object, but said only, "If you wish." 

But as they descended, passing Loki's previous cell without a glance from him, Thor became uneasy. They passed near the site of the previous shadowpath gate into areas unfrequented by anyone. "Where are we going?"

"I know not where **you** are going, but I am going to the Chamber of Winds." 

That paused Thor's step briefly. The Chamber of Winds was an immense cavern, deep beneath the palace, there was a narrow platform above a deep abyss, out of which powerful winds swirled upward. Thor had always wondered if it was a gap in Asgard and that hole might plummet all the way to Jormungandr. Whether it did or not, it was a deep, bottomless pit and no fit place for magical experiments. 

He had to hurry to catch up. "The Chamber is forbidden to us, since our youth."

Loki snorted. "I have visited many times."

That did not surprise Thor at all but he objected anyway, "It is dangerous!" 

"I need isolation and a place to send any wild power that will harm no one," Loki explained, not slowing or hesitating in the maze of tunnels. This deep in the undercroft, the walls and floors were only polished stone, far from the finery of rugs and wall-hangings above. "And it has no furniture to damage."

Thor wasn't sure if it was amusing or troubling that Loki thought nothing of disobeying Odin to visit the Chamber, while obeying Frigga's request to move his experiment to a safer place. "I thought Father sealed it." 

"He did. I opened it." Loki shrugged. "I keep it shielded against anyone else though, so perhaps that was all that mattered to him." 

He turned abruptly to face the stone wall. Holding out his hand, he stripped the shield, revealing a narrow crack that led off into the darkness. Thor recognized the entrance, but it seemed smaller than he remembered. Loki ducked his head to enter and . Thor followed, shoving himself into the lightless passage.

Loki moved with enviable swiftness, familiar with the tunnel, even as Thor struggled to fit both himself and Mjolnir between the ragged stones. 

A cobalt light glimmered ahead of him and Loki's voice taunted, "If you are intent on joining me, could you move along?"

"You brought us this way deliberately," Thor accused, having to turn sideways and duck his head, while feeling for rock protuberances. 

He could see Loki's face looking back at him, lit by the Casket's blue glow, grinning as he watched Thor's awkward progress. "It's the only way. But still amusing." 

"I remember the way being more spacious," Thor complained, shoving his way past another narrowing of the path and tearing his tunic sleeve when the stone would not release him.

Loki chuckled. "It has been a long time, but I assure you it is not the passage that has narrowed."

Thor groaned at the jest. "Will you still be so amused when these walls will not give up their prize? And you trapped within?"

Loki's chuckle deepened. "Always so alarmist. The passage opens out in a few more steps."

'A few' was a lie, but it did finally join a bigger tunnel, and Thor could stand up straight and take a deep breath again. 

The only light at first was the light from the Casket in Loki's hands, but with a gesture, Loki lit the glowstones in the brackets fixed to the stone. This part of the tunnel hadn't changed in centuries, probably millennia. Where the narrow passage had been mostly natural, this tunnel was clearly not, with the floor smoothed and gently sloping, and the ceiling made higher, wide enough for at least two people to walk abreast.

The upper end of this wider tunnel stopped, as he recalled, in a wall of stones meant to seal it shut, which had been very exciting to find as a youth, but made him wary as an adult. People walled off things that were dangerous or shameful, and probably should not be used as Loki's personal magical laboratory. 

Lights flickering to life as he approached, Loki led the way as the passage began to slant and curve more steeply downward, becoming stairs. There were no other tunnels or passages that came off this one, directly heading to the Chamber, with no way to be lost.

"I never thought to wonder as children," Thor said, modifying his voice when it echoed in the enclosed space, "what this place's purpose once was. Do you know?"

"Our ancestors --" Loki's voice faltered, and he corrected himself with painful precision, "The ancient Aesir, in the days before All-father took the throne, used to sacrifice their enemies here. They called it feeding Jormungandr." 

Thor felt ill at the thought, imagining captives being forced down this staircase. "They threw people into the abyss?"

"So Wulfgar told me. Those were dark days."

Thor nodded, and followed down the winding steps, troubled. 

"It must be reassuring," Loki added unexpectedly, "to know that such practices ended long ago here, even as they continued in other Realms." 

"Not very," Thor said. "I find it difficult to imagine such dishonor here at all." 

"At least it was never children. Even the primitive Aesir were never so… barbaric." 

That was when Thor realized Loki was talking about himself, left to die in Jotunheim, and perhaps recalling his own fall into the abyss from the Bifrost. He agreed softly, "That was terrible. But perhaps it was fate, Loki. You are far greater here than you would have been there." 

"Greater here?" he snarled in sudden sparking rage. "I suppose, when my other choice was to be a starving _beast_." He leapt down the section of stair to take the turn out of sight.

"Loki!" Thor hurried after. "I meant no offense. Please - wait -"

To his surprise, Loki was standing at the next bend. He wouldn't look at Thor, keeping his gaze on the darkness of the path beneath. "There is no succor for the truth." His fingers were white on the Casket, gripping it so tightly it seemed it ought to shatter, and his voice was halting. "I... dream of what might have been. Of cold. Of what I am. But... I cannot..."

He trailed off, inhaling a ragged breath, and seemed unable to finish, even as his throat fluttered with words that tried to escape. Thor watched him, hurting for him, wanting to offer solace but unsure what he would hear and believe. Thor gripped his shoulder. "Remember we love you true, Loki." 

It helped, Thor was glad to see, as Loki managed a fuller breath and his grip loosened. He gave a little nod, bringing himself back to calm. Thor squeezed and let him go. Sometimes simple was best.

They emerged through a stone archway, grandly carved into ornate curves and twists, into the Chamber. There was an unprotected platform capable of holding perhaps a hundred people, and extending out from it a narrow finger above the abyss. Now that he knew what it was used for, he could imagine all too well a small crowd gathered to watch as some enemy was forced out there and off the end.

Loki held up the Casket, brightening its light, but even so Thor could barely see the far side of the chamber. There was a smooth dark rock face, polished by the winds which swirled all around them. High above was a rounded ceiling like a dome, but below, when he sidled cautiously closer to the edge, was darkness. He had once thrown a lantern over the edge as a child -- it had disappeared beyond his sight and he had never heard it hit anything. Imagining people being hurled over the edge was horrifying, and he remembered Loki falling from the Bifrost, falling and falling... He could barely keep himself from grabbing Loki's arm and forcing him back up the stairs and away from this place.

He wondered how Loki could bear to be in this space, when Thor's own fear of seeing him fall again was stealing his breath.

But Loki did not seem unduly disturbed by the infinite drop just a few paces away. "There is power here," Loki murmured, his voice barely audible against the wind. He held out a hand, feeling the power. "It comes from the heart of Asgard."

He whispered and the invisible wind now glowed palely golden. Streamers of power writhed like living things from the abyss, blown upward, swirling and curling back down, restless as the sea.

Thor found his back was pressed to the cavern wall, away from the tendrils of power.

Loki glanced at him sidelong and smirked. "You can leave if you wish. I have no need of you here." 

Thor stepped away from the wall and rested Mjolnir on his shoulder. "No. You need someone to watch over you." 

Since Loki did not object and had allowed him to follow, Thor figured he might agree. Perhaps the wreck of his room had taught him a little more caution. 

"Do not interfere," Loki warned and set the Casket on the floor. He removed what looked like the blade of a spear or polearm from his coat and set it between his feet and the Casket. The blade did not look like metal, but rather some form of clouded crystal, and Thor recognized it.

"Is that…?" Thor asked, taking an urgent step forward. 

"Yes," Loki answered shortly. "Stay back." 

Thor recovered his step but was no less concerned. That was the blade from the Hall of Treasures. It was said to be unbreakable, harder than diamond, could cut through anything, made in the fire of Muspelheim by the fire demons. 

And Loki intended to break it.

Thor opened his mouth to ask whether he had permission to take it and shut it again, knowing it was a foolish question, because Loki never asked _permission_ to do anything.

"How did you--" Thor started, but gave that one up, too, when Loki grinned. He probably didn't want to know how Loki had taken it from the Hall. He sighed and objected instead, "You did not ask me to join you."

Loki glanced at him, eyebrows lifted in surprise, and then rolled his eyes in derision. "You would have tried to stop me."

"I would not." Which was probably a lie, since Thor couldn't imagine a conversation about stealing a treasure that didn't include something about persuading Loki against taking it, but he liked to think he'd still have gone along with it, if only to keep Loki out of greater trouble. He sighed. "If you destroy it, Father will be angry."

Loki snorted a laugh. "If I succeed, it will mean I may be able to unmake Thanos and it will be an acceptable loss. If I fail, it will be untouched and I may return it with no one being the wiser."

"And if it falls into the abyss?" Thor pointed out the unmentioned flaw in his plan, and Loki flashed a grin at him. 

"That would be unfortunate. Now, be quiet." He knelt on the stone and Thor sidled to the side until he could see Loki's profile and watch as he held out a hand. The Casket's energy brightened, twirling within the confines and then emerging to flow upward in a smooth stream into Loki's hand. 

Thor frowned. Was it merely the brightness of the powers all around him that was making Loki's skin color an odd gray shade, or was some of the bluish tint of his birth skin showing despite the illusion he was keeping over it? It was either reflex that he was not dropping it altogether, or he was hiding it from Thor, forgetting that Thor had already seen. He should sit Loki in front of a mirror so he could see himself and understand he was not as different as he seemed to believe. 

The golden tendrils in the wind seemed curious, approaching and then winding around Loki, as his hair whipped wildly around his head. He closed his eyes. 

Lips moving, though Thor couldn't hear anything he might be saying over the wind, Loki started to merge the powers, cobalt and gold, into a brighter, whiter light in the palm of his hand.

It built, and the winds turned bitterly cold and started to scream all around, threatening to tug Thor off the platform until he put Mjolnir down and held on. Still the wind and the power grew, tugging at him, trying to pull him from the handle.

Then… all went silent and still. The stream of power from the Casket to Loki stopped, and for an instant Loki held a star in his hand, brilliant and terrible. 

Then he turned his hand and thrust the power down against the blade. 

Everything, the air itself, exploded, crashing with a blinding flare and a shock wave that slammed Thor into the wall. He pulled Mjolnir with him, and it broke the stone.

When he blinked away the blow, he saw Loki and the Casket still there, thankfully only knocked backward, as it seemed the greater force had been shoved away from them. The Casket was dim, its energies now quiescent within as a soft glow.

"Loki?" 

Loki didn't answer for a moment, his shoulders slumping tiredly and hair hanging in wind-tangled disarray. He picked up the blade on the ground before him and hurled it furiously like one of his daggers into the wall near Thor. It struck the rock with a curiously musical tone, splintering stone, so all fell to the ground. 

Thor bent to pick up the blade and turned it over in his hand. It seemed untouched despite the power Loki had used against it.

"Yes, it failed." Loki's voice seethed with anger that echoed from the walls. "That was my best hope for a spell that would work. And it did not even penetrate the surface."

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and climbed to his feet. With a curled lip, he shoved the Casket into the aether, hiding it away with a fluid twist of his hands. Thor watched, impressed that was possible at all; stashing daggers and his armor was one thing, but the Casket should be different. But afterward Loki staggered an alarming step, drained by the previous effort more than he had expected. But as Thor darted forward in concern, Loki straightened and headed past Thor and up the stairs with single-minded determination. "There is an answer and I will find it." 

"More power?" Thor suggested.

Loki huffed a breath as if Thor was an ignorant fool. "I could use the tesseract and it would not matter. I need a better spell."

"Perhaps there is nothing within Asgard or the Nine Realms that will suffice," Thor said.

"Then I will go outside. There are other sources of knowledge. I will go to them and get an answer."

Thor hesitated. Loki's rage was unlike his own, burning cold and implacable, but that made it no more reasoned. ' _Other sources of knowledge_ ' sounded very dangerous. "He is not here, Loki. He may not be able to enter Jormungandr at all." 

"He cannot. Not yet. But he hovers on the boundary and he will find a way to tear open another portal to bring him inside. If not me, then some other fool he will ensnare. He needs only a foothold from which to launch an attack on the rest of the Realms."

"Heimdall will see."

Loki glanced over his shoulder. "By the time Heimdall sees it may be too late. There are ways to shield oneself from his sight." 

"You are not alone in defending the realm," Thor reminded him, trying to be reassuring.

"I see precious few others helping," Loki snapped. "Odin All-father presumes he shall do what he did before and banish Thanos outside the serpent again. But what if he cannot? What then? Do we sit helpless and watch as Thanos and his army trample the Nine Realms and kill all who stand against him?"

"No, of course we will fight."

"Fight. And die. Or wish you were," Loki muttered.

Thor held his shoulder on the landing, forcing him to stop and face him. "Loki. You must believe we will win, or you cede the ground before the battle begins."

"If you believe we can win as we are, then you are a fool." Loki glared at him, fury and fear distorting his face and shining in his eyes. "He cannot be stopped, Thor. He is stronger than you, more powerful than I, and he cannot be hurt or harmed. He can shape minds and dreams, and he has taken a gift of long-life from the Celestials and twisted it into becoming a being that _cannot die_. Tell me, brother, how do we win against _that_?" he demanded and twisted out from beneath Thor's grip, to take a step back. "We do not. So that is why I will learn how to destroy him, if I must find a way to exterminate the Celestials first." 

"Loki-"

Loki's eyes were chips of ice, merciless. "Do not mewl to me about _rightness_ , at this moment, brother. If I find leverage over them to clean up their vile mess, I will use it. Of that you may be certain." He whirled and started back up the stairs.

Thor followed him, not answering immediately. It seemed less likely Loki would find a weapon against the Celestials than against Thanos. Celestials appeared rarely in the Realms and were beings of great primordial power; they were true immortals, unfathomable observers of existence who had slipped their physical forms not long after the creation of the universe. Not that it made it better to hear Loki threaten to kill them all, no matter how improbable, but as a measure of his desperation it was sobering.

In the narrow tunnel, Loki cast a small green light like a tendril of smoke to show the path. Though it was dimmer, the way out seemed easier, making him wonder if Loki had done something to the passage on the way in, after all, but he forbore to ask when Loki was in such a mood. Once they were out of it and Loki set the protection back in place, Thor felt more ready to speak his thoughts as they entered more familiar corridors. 

"You think as you fight," he observed, pleased when Loki glanced at him, frowning in puzzlement at why he would say that. And when he stopped, Loki stopped, too, curious enough to listen. "You fight with daggers, with a spear, with magic - with all of these weapons, you wait and you plan, and then, in one moment, when opportunity arises, you strike like a viper." His free hand imitated the attack in a quick swoop. "It is devastating, but if it fails, you are left open and vulnerable. So it is with your plan to kill Thanos, Loki. You search out the one perfect spell that will destroy him, but after its failure, you have no other recourse." He turned somber eyes on Loki, trying to make him understand, as he lifted Mjolnir in his hand to draw Loki's eyes to it. "You must fight more like me. I do not expect my first blow to fell my opponent -- sometimes it does, but often, I must hit it many times before it falls. But it falls in the end. Maybe one blow or one spell will not defeat Thanos, but who is to say many will not? We will strike, and strike again, until he falls." 

Loki dropped his gaze to his empty hands, expression thoughtful. "Mother said much the same," he murmured.

"If you will not listen to me, then at least heed her." He smiled, trying to encourage Loki out of his failure. "The sons of Asgard will fight united, and nothing can stop that." 

"You…" Loki trailed off as though he could find no appropriate words, and eventually lifted his gaze back to Thor's and found a smile to return to him. "You are wiser than you look. On occasion." 

Thor grinned at him. "And you are too clever for your own good." 

"A state you are never in," Loki retorted. Thor tried to smack his shoulder, but his hand passed through the image, as Loki flashed into view five paces ahead, chortling.

Thor dropped Mjolnir and pelted after him, and it turned into a very old game where Thor pursued him and Loki tried to stay uncaught, while staying close enough to taunt him. 

"We are too old for these childish games!" Thor exclaimed in frustration after the one he was sure was real, turned out to be illusion.

"Do you give up then?" The smug purr came directly behind him. 

Thor whirled to grab him, but he dissipated like smoke, with a chuckle of pure glee. 

It was frustrating that he kept falling for the bluff-and-double-bluff illusions, but the game was worth it to see Loki throw off the shadows around his heart and play again, as they had as children. 

It ended when Loki cast what seemed like a hundred copies of himself, and when Thor spun around, swiping quickly to find the real one before Loki could switch them, Loki started to laugh so hard he couldn't stop even when Thor was standing right in front of him. Thor reached out to touch his chest. It was solid, not the illusion he still half-expected. "I win."

"Your face -- your face was--" Another peal of laughter came out of him, as the illusions all vanished. Loki fell back against the wall, still letting out chuckles with a hand across his stomach as he caught his breath. After a moment of companionable silence, he admitted, "I had forgotten." 

Thor assumed he meant he'd forgotten how to spend pleasant time with his brother, and if he did not, it made no difference. "I never did." 

Loki glanced at him, humor fading for some more serious emotion as he looked away again. "Even when you should have." 

Thor grasped his shoulder, recognizing what that was about. "I will not ever give up on you, Loki. Take that as your certainty in this life and the next. We are brothers, family, for always. That will never change."

He could see that Loki was grateful, and his smile seemed affectionate and genuine. "Still so much sentiment," he chided, teasing, and pushed off the wall to head for the steps. Yet when he thought he'd turned his head enough to be unobserved, the smile vanished and his eyes flickered with doubt.

Thor followed him upstairs, wondering what he could do to make Loki truly believe him.

* * *

tbc...


	4. Ceremony Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga's plan for a peaceful, healing ceremony of reconciliation goes terribly awry.

* * *

The great hall filled with the restless sounds of those awaiting the ceremony. 

Frigga stood alone before the throne, as Odin and Thor both would follow Loki in. 

The great doors at the end opened and the trumpets sounded a clarion of greeting. Loki entered, in full golden armor and helm, and started down the central aisle. 

Frigga frowned as she got a look at his face, held proudly high. The fever-bright glint in his eyes worried her as he approached. His gaze did not meet hers and he seemed not to be seeing the hall at all. His hands were clenched at his sides. She tried to smile encouragingly at him, but he didn't notice. Was he remembering the last great gathering in this hall, for Thor's coronation-that-hadn't-happened before all had gone awry? Or something else? 

Then as Loki passed the great bulk of Volstagg, there with his entire family at the front of the crowd, the elder warrior muttered, "Blood will tell, in the end." Loki flinched, and he hesitated before continuing, more stiffly than he had been moving.

He reached the first step and, instead of kneeling and awaiting Odin and Thor as he should, he mounted the steps to the top, stood before the great throne, and turned in a swirl of emerald cape. 

She felt a strong foreboding and raised a hand, opening her mouth to speak, but he spoke first, exclaiming in a furious voice that reached the far pillars, "I try to defend this realm, I try to do the right thing, and none of it ever matters! I know what you all believe! Is this what you expect of me? Is this what you **want** me to be? Then I will give it to you!" 

Abruptly Odin stood on the dais with him though she had not seen him arrive. Loki grabbed Gungnir from his hand, and in one fast twirl, thrust the spear through Odin's back so it came through his chest. The gathered crowd gasped in horror and a few screams, as the king's eye bulged and he clutched at the spear, blood gushing from his mouth and the wound.

For an instant, horror froze her: _no, no, how could he do this_? Then she realized Odin wasn't there at all. It was illusion, though it seemed no one else realized that.

"Loki! Stop this at once!" Frigga started toward him, finding a barrier across her path. She hit it, trying to get inside or break it, but he held it in place, keeping her away from himself and the image of his father. "Loki!" He did not hear her, face ravaged and incandescent eyes that saw only the illusion he was weaving.

Loki wrenched the spear free and kicked Odin's body down the steps where it slumped to the floor. Several people shouted and others reached for weapons which they were not carrying at what was supposed to be a peaceful ceremony. 

As they moved toward him, he lifted his arms, bloody spear in hand, and shouted, "Is that what you fear so desperately? Then I will give it to you. Why should I try to do good, if all you expect of me is evil?"

He held Gungnir high, and lightning flashed, rising from the tip of the spear to the top of the dome. He hurled the spear downward at Odin's body, where it lodged upright.

Loki's expression was one moment wild-eyed and triumphant, but the next, faltered. She thought it was because Volstagg and Fandral both smashed into the barrier at the front, yelling for the king and for Loki's blood. But then she sensed the real reason, only a moment before Odin's voice roared out over the noise. "Loki, what is this? What are you doing?" 

The barrier under Frigga's hands melted away as Odin came onto the dais, holding the actual Gungnir. The illusions vanished without a trace and the audience gasped, realizing Loki had played them all. He sneered at them, "Proving I'm the monster they fear." 

He whirled around, cape flaring, and disappeared as if he'd been an illusion, too. But she sensed a different cast of invisibility and hurried after him. "Loki! Stop!" But she called too late as the spell for short-range teleportation shivered against her skin and he was gone, through the door.

On the other side of the door she met Thor, but Loki was nowhere to be seen. "Did you see him? Loki?" she asked.

"No, why? What is happening?"

"Find him! He must be near." She ran down the corridor, calling for Loki. She hoped he would reveal himself to her, but got no response. But when enough time had passed that he could be anywhere, she returned to the corridor outside the hall, beckoning Thor to join her. 

"What happened?" Thor asked.

"He has done something impetuous," she sighed and shook her head. He was likely regretting it already and was hiding himself away by now to brood over it. In the past he would have filled himself with righteous indignation and put himself in the right, but she was less sure now what his ultimate response would be. 

"In the middle of the ceremony?" Thor asked, but did not sound overly surprised. 

Before she could explain, Odin emerged, furious. "This is intolerable! He attacks me - or makes everyone believe that he did - he ruins a reconciliation ceremony with this - this - " The air crackled with the force of his anger, as he lost his words. "This _nonsensical_ attack! I have spent the last few minutes reassuring everyone he meant nothing by it, but how do I know that? Perhaps it is what he has always planned and he rehearses-"

She cut that off with an urgent grip of his arm. "No. Husband, no. Your first instinct was correct; it was intemperate and foolish, but not malice."

"What happened?" Thor demanded, looking from one to the other, alarmed.

Odin let out a great bellows of air and looked to her. "Yes, what did happen? I came into it already finished-- a simulacrum of my own body dead on the floor, with Gungnir wielded by my son to take my life!" 

"What?" Thor blurted, appalled.

"It was illusion," Frigga explained. "Loki was proceeding through the crowd as planned and he heard an ill-chosen remark by Volstagg. Loki leapt up to the dais and proclaimed the ceremony a farce because everyone believed him a villain regardless of what he did. He cast the illusion that you had entered," she added to Odin. "It was impressive, and even I believed it for the first moment."

"I do not find that at all reassuring," he grumbled.

"I suppose not, but for something he cast without preparation in the heat of upset, it was well-done. And he held me off with a force barrier with little effort, while he finished his… pantomime of regicide. It was... quite dramatic."

"But- but why? What did Volstagg say?" Thor asked. 

She sighed. "He said, ' _Blood will tell in the end_.' Which was unfortunate, though I suspect Loki awaited any expression of doubt. He believes all revile him, though in truth few know of his darker deeds and fewer still know of his blood."

"That was what the ceremony was for," Thor objected, still in confusion. "To demonstrate to the people that he had reconciled with us. But then he commits a larger misdeed to ruin it."

"He lashed out," she murmured, "full of anger, not reason, Thor. He doubts himself, so he makes everyone else doubt, too." 

Odin settled then, more thoughtful, and his eye sought her gaze. "He is not ready."

"I had hoped the ceremony would be healing, but I agree," she said with a nod, her heart heavy. "He cannot be reconciled with us or with the people, until he is reconciled to himself."

Odin's gaze lifted abruptly, sensing something at a distance. "He has broken the ward around the tesseract. Thor, go to your brother -- in this mood, he may do something else reckless. Your mother and I will discuss what is to become of him." 

"'What is to become of him'?" Thor repeated in alarm. "But, Father, he did not intend to--"

"Go. Stop him. Now," Odin ordered and with a quick jerk of his head in reluctant assent, Thor obeyed.

After they watched their son hurry away, he gave her a look. "I expected another impassioned defense, like Thor's?"

"I expected you to be more alarmed that Loki is near the tesseract," she countered.

He gestured with Gungnir. "He knows I know he broke the ward, as I also know he has not taken it. He will brood for a few minutes, either to work himself into a rage great enough to take it, or to give his brother time to reach him." 

"And that is why I am not immediately beginning my impassioned defense," she answered, lips flickering in a wry smile. "You have a better understanding of him now." 

"I thought I did," he said heavily, with a shake of his head. "To see that, though… is he still so angered at me?"

She had to admit that. "Yes. It will take time to recover from those resentments he held for so long. But I think also it was the worst thing he could imagine at that moment to prove himself a monster." 

"As he believes himself to be." Odin pondered that for a moment. "I feared I raised a monster, and so he fears he is one." 

"Loki fears a great many things," Frigga murmured. "Thor knows no fear, because he has never cried out and gone unanswered. But when he was but hours or days old, Loki cried in the snowy dark and no one came to comfort him. That imprinted on his soul, and every time he cried out afterward and no one offered solace, that fear rooted a little deeper that he was undeserving. That only a beast would be left to suffer." 

He shut his eye, his face lined with pain. "We knew not that he suffered." 

To her everlasting shame, it was true that they had not known, but he had not told them he had lain on the floor, broken and alone, because they should have known; the king and queen of Asgard and their servant Heimdall who saw all, should not have needed telling.

"If you are Loki, do you believe your parents, wisest of Asgard, knew not, or knew but did nothing?" she asked in a murmur. "He chose the latter, believing in us so much more than anyone believed in him. But we did not know." 

Odin nodded slowly and he took her hand in his, pressing it. "He was right," he admitted hoarsely. "I saw him not. I saw only what I expected to see, a Frost Giant enemy, a cuckoo in the nest, biding his time to overthrow those who gave him shelter."

She tried to smile. "Then, husband, perhaps his impetuous act has had one favorable outcome, and proven what you feared most is only a shadow. The river once led to a terrible fall but it has been diverted to a new course. And it's our duty to shepherd that course to better ends."

She saw the Allfather, wisdom now fully engaged on behalf of his younger son, instead of in opposition, and he released her hand.

"You have a plan?" she asked, smile widening, knowing he did.

"Loki does not believe words. He knows how easily those can twist. Only actions will serve." He headed down the corridor, filled with new purpose. "He lacks belief in himself most of all, and no words will give it to him. He must find his strength himself." 

She frowned, brow knitting. What action could he be contemplating? 

"He must face his fear and emerge from it reborn." An eagle eye glared at her sidelong. "And no well-meaning maternal coddling shall interfere." 

She let a smile tease her lips, not impressed with the severity. "That depends entirely upon your intent. He has suffered quite enough in recent days." 

He stopped. "Must you combat me at every turn when it comes to Loki?" he demanded in frustration. 

She intended a greater tease, but what emerged was more somber and true. "I should have begun long ago." 

He hesitated and admitted, "Indeed." He held out his free hand. "Walk with me and I will share my plan. I think even an anxious mother will approve it."

She tucked her hand around his arm. "Then I anxiously await to hear it."

* * *

"Loki?" Thor emerged on the upper level of the tower to find Loki there. He'd put away the formal armor and his helm to wear his black and green fighting leathers. His hands were clasped behind his back and he was looking at the tesseract with a dour expression as if he were contemplating something reckless and foolish. 

Thor hoped it was a good sign Loki hadn't taken hold of it. "Mother told me what you did in the audience hall." 

"They got what they wanted," Loki muttered.

"Loki." Thor sighed. "You frightened them."

"Good. I intended as much." He turned from the tesseract and went to the railing. Thor joined him, following Loki's gaze out to the Bifrost gate where the rainbow bridge shimmered in the distance, where its regrowth was proceeding rapidly fueled by the power of the tesseract. "They fear me, whatever I do. So they may as well fear the wolf, not the cowering dog."

"So you put on a performance of murdering our father? That was how you show you are a wolf, brother?" Thor asked, feeling both dismay -- for how could Loki even imagine such a thing? -- and a little bemusement at Loki's implication that he had done it with intent, when he so obviously had lost his temper. 

"They are complacent," Loki bit out. "They think they know what Thanos is, and they still fear me as if I am the worst of us. So I thought I should show them how easy it would be if I were such a villain."

Thor hesitated, wondering what he could say. "If you were looking for trust, I think that was the last thing you should have done."

Loki made a scornful, bitter noise. "I lost that battle before Midgard. Nor do I care to fight it anew, when the war comes." He lifted his eyes to the sky above. "I feel him, Thor. He is on the move. And when he comes, none of this will matter."

"You can feel him?" Thor asked, in alarm. "Does Father know this?" 

"There is little to tell. It's faint. A whisper, but always there now." He frowned and folded his arms as if he felt cold.

"Where is he?" Thor asked. "Near?" 

Loki was already shaking his head negative. "Still at a distance. But he taints Jormungandr. I could find where he touches in the shadowpaths." He turned, gaze drifting to find the tesseract again.

Thor's hand closed on his shoulder. "No. Whatever you are planning, no. Not with the tesseract, and not alone, brother."

"I am not planning anything," Loki protested, jerking free of Thor's grip to face the distant horizon again. There was a longing to his gaze and in the way he leaned into the railing, as if he wanted to fly away. 

"Then I am more concerned," Thor said. "Your plans at least are thoughtful; your unconsidered reactions tend toward utter disaster." 

Loki stiffened in offense but didn't speak, and after a moment, he slumped again as if realizing it was the truth. After he watched a flock of small blackbirds dart around the farther towers, his fingers wrapped the railing and he said in a low voice, "You can say it. What does he intended to do? With me?" 

"I do not know," Thor answered, just as softly. "He sent me to you before he decided. But it will be well, Loki; he knows it was only illusion."

"Does he?" Loki murmured. "I would not believe so, in his place." 

"I shall not permit anything terrible," Thor declared staunchly, though in truth he was not sure what he could do to stop anything Odin decided. He urged Loki to move, slinging an arm across his shoulders. "Come; away from here. You are still upset and the tesseract may yet tempt you into something rash. And I believe you have done enough that is reckless for this day." 

Loki flicked him a baleful glare, but let Thor nudge him to the stairs.


	5. The King's Judgment

* * *

Loki sat on the shallow steps by the window of the anteroom, idly rolling a fat purple grape between his fingers. Part of him wondered why he was sitting there, waiting. He should open the shadowpaths and go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Instead of letting the inevitable hang over him.

 _I am a fool. I could be gone. I could have taken the tesseract and raised an army on its power alone. I could show Midgard my true strength, not the shadow they saw and scorn. Little do they know what I can truly do. Red on my ledger such that they can never dream, and their Realm not the worst of it_.

Yet he stayed there, grape rolling across the back of his hands and between his fingers in an exercise he'd done since he'd been small enough to stand beneath the dining table. 

At the sideboard, Thor poured drinks into the flagons, but Loki didn't want any drink. He had never enjoyed or desired that sort of loss of control, and especially not now while he awaited the summons.

 _Especially when I lose control perfectly well without it_ , he reminded himself acidly. _Not a wolf, nor a cowering dog, only a fool_.

Thor started across the chamber toward him, bearing both flagons and smiling so cheerfully Loki wanted to kick him in the teeth. 

But before Thor said anything too provoking, another deep voice intruded. "Loki." 

Loki glanced up to see Odin in the doorway, beckoning him to follow.

Loki climbed to his feet, knowing he could no longer avoid the confrontation. When Thor made a move to join him, Loki raised a hand. "No. This is mine alone."

He tossed the grape into one of Thor's flagons and followed Odin. To his surprise they went to the family dining room, not the audience chamber, but even so he did not attempt to sit in his own chair. Instead, once Odin had seated himself in his great chair, Loki stopped several paces away and cast his gaze to his hands folded in front of him. A year ago, he would have felt resentful and angry, but this time he felt resigned to the inevitable retribution. He opened his mouth to give the appropriate words of regret, then realized he'd had no leave to speak and shut it again. 

"Such obedience," Odin mocked lightly. "I hardly know what to say when you are not full of defiance. Speak what sits so ready on your tongue."

Keeping his eyes down, Loki answered, "I wished to say I regret my intemperate action in the hall. I know you must doubt this, but I did not intend any true act against you." 

Odin said nothing for a moment, but Loki felt the continued regard, and finally Odin said, "Time not long ago, I would have feared it indicated your true feeling - "

Loki lifted his eyes and interrupted urgently, "No! No, it does not! But they all seemed to expect it of me, and I wanted to show them they were wrong."

Odin frowned at him severely. "By showing them how you would make it come to pass?"

Loki's eyes fell again. "It sounds very… poor when said aloud," he admitted. "I wanted to show them I could have done it long ago. If … I had wanted--" he trailed off, not wanting to finish.

Odin finished for him, "If you had wanted me dead. Your illusion was not altogether spontaneous though. It was something you had considered before."

Loki wanted to lie, that no, of course, he had never considered it. But without raising his eyes, he admitted lowly, "Yes." He tightened his jaw and swallowed, adding, "I dreamed it. When I was little. I never told anyone, because how could I dream something so terrible? But standing in the hall, it seemed so strangely familiar..."

Odin stared at him, confounded by this revelation. He had expected Loki to confess to wanting to kill him out of his anger and resentment, but clearly not this. The shock would've been amusing if it wasn't all so awful.

"You… foresaw today?" Odin asked, and Loki nodded. Odin frowned and looked troubled. "This day may be more significant than I had thought…" he murmured to more to himself, then addressed Loki again, "When your mother realized your dreams were not ordinary and were harming you, we took them away. You were too young to bear such a burden." A keen eye sought his. "Did they return and you failed to speak of it?"

"No," Loki was relieved to be able to say that truly. "I think not." He hoped not, or his nightmares of Thanos coming to Asgard and killing everyone would come true, and he could not endure that. 

But Loki couldn't stop there, trying to explain, "So it felt strange entering the hall, and then to sense…" He stopped. ' _How much they hate me_ ' was true, but he knew Odin would never acknowledge that. Loki changed what he intended to say, "All I have wanted to do since Mother told me her intent of this ceremony was to present my plan for destroying Thanos. To show them," his hands fisted, pressing into his thighs, "I can solve the riddle, that all my books and magic can _fix_ it. But… it was for nothing," he admitted, making a sharp gesture, as the anger welled up again. "I have no answer. So they still look on me with scorn and doubt, and they think they hide it, but I feel it, always." 

Odin stirred as if he wished to argue that, but let it go after a careful breath. "Yet now the doubt has now increased beyond measure. Your temper was uncontrolled, reacting wildly to a single ill-timed jest. You must learn that not everything is a slight." He picked up his flagon to drink, frowning severely at Loki.

Loki wanted to argue, but tamped down the impulse. He needed to prove he could control his temper, not the opposite. 

Odin put the flagon down to pronounce his judgment. "I think it best you absent yourself from Asgard. You will go to Midgard."

The words should not have been unexpected, because Loki had known Odin would have to make a public response to so public an act. He would have to be seen exerting authority over his rebellious and possibly evil son. So it should not have been a surprise. 

Yet it was. All that he was, inside and out, seemed to frost over in that instant. Fear and dread filled him and stopped his breath, as if he was facing a nightmare or falling into that endless abyss again. 

Midgard. He was being banished to Midgard. A world he hated and who hated him. Their food was inedible, their vast numbers of little insignificant mortal lives crawling and infesting every corner of the planet until there was no part of it untouched by their taint. He did not want to go there.

 _You should have let me die_.

But he couldn't speak those words. He couldn't speak at all at first, not until he was sure his voice would stay level. Not until he could grab the shards of his pride and put them back together, and lift his head again to face Odin. 

He wanted to object and rail against it and grow furious, but instead, the anger withered away. He could lie to himself that the punishment was unjust, but his fingers folded as if holding that phantom Gungnir again and thrusting it into Odin's back, and he knew that this time, he had gone too far. In truth, exile was better than he deserved.

 _I will do this, I will face it bravely, and I will not plead for mercy. I will accept my punishment as Thor did, and go to Midgard_. 

Without his powers he would be utterly helpless against the humans. But if they shot first, then perhaps this whole farce would finally be ended. Yet with his luck they'd capture him and he'd slowly starve instead.

"Will I - " Despite his best efforts, his voice faltered and he had to start over, "Will I be able to return? Someday?"

Why did he care, when this place was rarely anything but misery to him? But as he began to head down that same worn, bitter path, he remembered Frigga crying on the other side of the barrier of his prison and how the sight had twisted a knife in his heart that he hadn't been certain still existed. He didn't want to be barred from seeing her again.

Odin appeared startled by the question, then frowned. "No, no, Loki, it is not exile. You are not banished."

His relief made him feel light-headed and giddy. Not exile. 

"But I must send you away from Asgard, to give your … performance a chance to fade from recent memory. So you will go to Midgard, with Thor, to warn the Midgardians about Thanos." 

That seemed an utterly pointless quest to send him on. "They will not listen to me." 

"You must find a way. You have knowledge Thor does not; you must help them prepare as best you can." 

"I should go to Jotunheim instead," Loki suggested. "Thor can go to Midgard to warn them, while I warn the Jotunn. They at least should heed what I tell them." Not that he cared whether they fell to Thanos, but allowing Thanos any foothold in the Nine Realms would make it that much harder to stop him. Some might suspect Loki had betrayed them, when their king had been killed, but still, Loki thought he would rather face down Frost Giants than return to Midgard. 

"You seem to be under the impression this is a negotiation. It is not." Odin stood, gripping Gungnir in one hand. "You will go to Midgard and you will learn some patience and caution, and compassion. You will observe the destruction you caused there, and maybe if you are fortunate and the Earthers are kind, you may receive some small part of forgiveness. But whether you do or not, you will go. You will warn them; you will tell them of the threat they face. Thor will lead this quest, and you will follow."

Against Odin's renewed anger, Loki dropped his eyes to the floor. "Yes, Allfather. As you command." 

Odin strode away some steps before swinging back to pin Loki with another glare. "I will not send you powerless and mortal. That endangers you and perhaps the Nine Realms if Thanos attacks. But heed me, if you turn your powers against the mortals, if you create death and destruction again, there will be a reckoning. I will not spare you the full justice you deserve if you fail in this." 

Loki nodded, and murmured, "I understand. I will not fail, I swear." He had no idea how he could _succeed_ either, since surely the mortals would never listen to him, but the threat was real. He could not fail again on Midgard, or this grace would be taken back. 

There was silence for a moment and then Odin let out a breath. "You acted in anger, not only toward those in the audience, but to me."

"No - I - " Loki started, in objection, but Odin overrode him. 

"You and I may be reconciled, but that does not erase centuries of resentment. I understand. But you should also understand how difficult it was to see an image of myself dead at your feet." 

Loki felt very small and young, and he had to bite his lip before speaking again, softly and not daring to look into Odin's face. "I am sorry. My rage was … unchecked." 

Odin's voice and mien softened. "I know, child. You are the tempest on the mountains, distant as it builds, but wild when it falls." 

Loki dampened his lips and raised his eyes back to Odin. "Perhaps you should take my powers from me," he offered, keeping his voice steady but his hands were shaking at his sides, until he clasped them behind his back. "I know not what troubles may arise on Midgard, but I have enemies there. Should they attack me, it might be best if I cannot retaliate without restraint."

Odin's frown deepened. "No. You will not learn restraint if you have nothing to restrain. Nor will I send you away from my protection powerless when I know Thanos lurks on the boundary, a danger to us all but especially to you." 

Loki's eyes flared with surprise. He could not recall the last time Odin had expressed any particular concern for his well-being when leaving on a quest or for war.

Odin misread the surprise, and asked, "You did not consider Thanos may take this opportunity to strike at you?" 

"I do not doubt he would take such an opportunity if offered, but it is not I - but rather the Gauntlet or tesseract, he wishes most of all," Loki replied steadily. At night and in his dreams, he feared Thanos would seek to punish him, but in the more rational light of day, he doubted Thanos would care about one traitor. He almost wished that Thanos would; at least then he could bait a trap with himself, once he found a proper spell to destroy him. "I think he will not concern himself with me." 

"Perhaps." But Odin's face held doubt and long memory of the war before, knowing what Loki did not. "He has no mercy in him, Loki. And now he hates us both. Go with caution." 

Loki nodded. "Of course." 

Odin's eye flicked to him at that, as if 'caution' was a concept unfamiliar to Loki. "I can be cautious," Loki protested. "And plan carefully." 

"Yes, you can. When you choose."

Loki could not dispute the weary condemnation in that, as sometimes Loki failed at careful planning, or rather, his careful plans did not properly account for all consequences. Loki had tried to be better than his oh-so-reckless brother, and ended up planning his way to disaster.

"The Bifrost grows rapidly, but is not complete. I will send you both by portal."

 _Speaking of disaster - the Bifrost's destruction is another that can be laid at my feet._

"And to return as well?" Loki asked. "I will not be able to bring us both back on the shadowpaths." He doubted he could bring himself alone, either, not with Asgard's protections at their heightened state. He might be able to force access for himself through where the gate had been, as the fabric of reality was never quite as firm after it had been torn and repaired, but weakening Jormungandr while Thanos waited outside was unwise. A portal would be easier and would not weaken the boundary, but he would need some sort of power source. "Stark's reactor would be sufficient to make a portal back, but he is unlikely to grant me access willingly."

Which was probably a wild understatement, since Stark was more likely to try to have him killed, than to render any assistance whatsoever. 

"Yes," Odin said, "this troubles me. Heimdall will watch over you both, and I will use the tesseract to recall you, but that leaves you little recourse if Asgard is under attack. What of Mjolnir? You have drawn upon its energies in the past."

Loki grimaced at the irony of that request. How many times in the past had Odin disapproved of Loki drawing on Mjolnir for anything? The energies were not for him to wield, and Odin had told him so, quite forcibly. Loki had avoided its use, though not because Odin had forbidden it; the idea of needing Thor's help for anything had grown repellent and he'd only used it in desperate circumstance. 

The last time had been in battle with Svartalfheim, and Loki's attempt to control both Mjolnir's energies and the wild magic set loose in the battle had resulted in a conflagration that could have killed them all. Loki had barely managed to send it at the enemy, and the effort had burnt him out for weeks. He had not touched Mjolnir's energies in the years since. That had been one of Thor's lauded victories, while Loki had stood in the shadows of the celebration, the price he had paid for the victory unacknowledged.

"It does not answer to me," Loki answered eventually, shielding the bitterness from his voice. "I can fight it well enough for rough power attacks, but a portal requires a delicate touch. That… would be far more difficult." It was likely impossible; he'd probably do better alone than trying to force Mjolnir's energies into a portal. "And of course, I can do nothing with it without Thor's assistance to call the energies in the first place." 

He knew the obvious solution and he knew from Odin's glance that Odin did as well. But Loki was reluctant to suggest it, fearing it would seem that he had orchestrated the conversation for such an end as the Casket of the Ancient Winters. 

A voice at the back of his mind whispered that Odin had given it to him and if it was his, he needed no _permission_ to bring it anywhere, any more than Thor needed permission to bring Mjolnir. But Thor had not been allowed Mjolnir on Earth at first, as part of his punishment, and likely Loki would not be allowed the Casket either.

The Casket. Jotunheim. Shadowpaths.

He had been a fool.

"Loki?" Odin asked. "What is it?"

"I realized… I left a shadowpath gate in Jotunheim as well. It is a point of weakness into the Realms. Truly I am not being impertinent, Allfather," he insisted, though Odin had not objected yet, "but I need to go there and unmake it before you send us to Midgard." He swallowed hard, ashamed to admit the weakness, "Thanos will have learned it exists from me."

He could still not clearly recall Thanos, but the influence he'd left behind was proof that Thanos had invaded his memories. Anything Loki had known at the time of his fall was known to Thanos as well. _I should have fought him. I should have resisted_. 

Odin stroked his beard once, his gaze heavy on Loki. "The last time you went there… was not a success." 

Loki decided it was wiser to keep his mouth shut and not point out that the last mission to Jotunheim had succeeded quite well - Laufey had come through exactly as planned, following the will-o-wisp in the under-halls. After that … admittedly, after that, everything had failed terribly, but the trip itself had succeeded.

Yet Odin knew his thoughts, unspoken. "They may attack you to avenge his death." 

"All they should know is I was friendly to their cause. Possibly they may guess the betrayal, but they cannot know it was my hand." He smirked in memory. "I warned them it was a risk."

Odin peered at him curiously. "You feel no remorse."

Loki knew he should feign uncertainty, at least. It would be wiser to show he could reconsider his actions, especially in the aftermath of today's temper, but he could not muster even the pretense of remorse over Laufey's death. He shrugged. "Should I? He was a monster. I do not regret it. All that followed, yes, but not his death."

"Even though he might have told you why?" Odin asked. 

Loki knew which question - which 'why' - he meant: _Why did you abandon me? Why did you hate me so much you wanted me dead_? 

Loki gave a sharp laugh. "I know why." Because Laufey had thought his malformed infant was a creature unworthy of the simple mercy of a quick death, and left him to starve. Oh yes, if Laufey stood before him again, Loki would still run him through with Gungnir. The only part he regretted was that Laufey had not known - Loki had wanted to see the surprise and horror in his face that his betrayer was that abandoned son. But Frigga had been in more danger than he had expected, and so there had been no time for gloating.

"Perhaps I should send another," Odin mused. "Your anger still clouds your judgment."

Realizing his emotions had been too naked on his face, Loki inhaled a deeper, steadying breath to get himself back under control. "I need only unmake the gate, it stands outside the city. I do not intend to provoke any response; only moving quickly with stealth. And if I have the Casket I can return myself." 

"If you call upon the power of the Casket they will know." 

Loki's stomach turned at the thought that anyone else, especially Jotunn, would know the truth. It was not widely known that the Casket was tied to Jotunn blood; many believed Odin had taken it to use himself. Hopefully his known spell mastery would be enough to explain his use. "I will hide what I can." 

Odin paced around the table, deep in thought. "Very well. But you must take Thor."

"You heard the part of my plan involving stealth, yes?" Loki asked dryly, lifting a brow. 

Odin's lips twitched in reluctant amusement. "I shall warn him against his usual heedlessness. But going to Jotunheim alone is unwise. Better you should defend one another. And you can depart directly to Midgard."

Loki wanted to object to that, but Odin expected defiance from him, so he bowed his head. "We shall." 

"I will send you by the tesseract to Jotunheim, but you will take the Casket and use that to create the portal to Midgard."

Loki nodded, accepting the command. The Casket of the Ancient Winters was attuned to him and would give him power enough to make a portal anywhere in the Nine Realms. 

The thought of wielding that much power and weaving the portal from it, made him quiver with eagerness. He remembered holding its energies in his room, and he remembered sending a portion of it against Heimdall. Everything in his being felt _right_ with that power coursing through him. He wanted that again, so strongly that the desire made the back of his neck feel cold and his fingers ached to make the spell. 

He could hold against the temptation here, under his mother's eyes and with her strength supporting him, but away from Asgard? Under pressure from enemies? What if he was weak again? Or his temper too wild?

If he faltered, he could unleash a deep winter on Midgard. He could freeze the mortals' water-based bodies with a thought, bring the snow, and turn the world into a deadly reflection of Jotunheim. It was a heady thing to imagine - the snow and ice spreading through the city. It would be beautiful and terrible, the cold and the silence of the once living and vibrant city.

It reminded him of the terrible wave of energy falling upon the dark elf warriors, bright death rolling over the ranks, unstoppable and fearful in its power. And he remembered his own euphoria at the sight, until pain had torn it all to darkness.

He could feel that same dark glee he'd felt in the battle on Midgard, when nothing else mattered. With the power of the Casket in his hands, even the green monstrosity would fall. He could avenge that humiliation and defeat, and with that power, he would be unstoppable… 

He had to turn from the table and walk away. He closed his eyes in futile attempt to push the terrible temptation from him. 

_Is this all I am? Destruction and death? Power and malice? Have I not brought ruin enough_?

He brought his hands before him, clenched to fists, remembering Thor begging him to stop the portal and his own voice crying out in horror and elation: _It is too late_! 

Too late to stop it. Too late to call it back. Too late for him.

That it hadn't been too late, that it had been 'just in time' had been due to the acts of others, not himself: Tony Stark's last minute sacrifice, Natasha using the scepter to short circuit the portal, his mother not surrendering to his madness… Everyone else had risked themselves to stop him.

Yet it seemed he'd learned nothing. Again he was walking the same worn path to destruction and reckless anger, so blinded by the allure of power he ignored the abyss at the end of the path. Defeated by reaching for what he was not, all that remained was shame of what he was.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder, and Loki turned his head, startled. The touch and the sight of Odin's face, and the look of understanding, of _sympathy_ , on so stern a countenance undid him suddenly. He had to blink back sudden hot tears and his voice was ragged with loathing, as he confessed, "I hate him, I killed him, and yet his blood is still in me. I can never be the son you want."

He was power and death, tragedy and pain. He was a monster, spawn of a monster, and he would never be anything else.

Odin's grip tightened. "Loki, you are my son," Odin murmured. "I want us to be reconciled, and I want you to be reconciled to all the parts of you so you can find peace. I remember the joyful boy you were once, and that changed not because of your blood, but because of me." His other hand pushed back the dark hair hanging in Loki's face and tipped his chin up to look into his eyes. "You said I did not see you, remember? Do you know what I see before me now? I see the potential of the best of all the Realms, and I see our chance for unity and for a peace that comes not from a sword or spear," his hand dropped to Loki's chest, and laid upon it gently, "but from heart. This heart beating right here." 

Loki felt as if that chest and heart beneath was suddenly fragile crystal, quivering under Odin's hand as if it might collapse to tiny shards at the merest breath. 

"You are not exiled," Odin repeated, not moving his hand. "Not banished. Not punished. This journey is for you, to heal this heart and to learn its strength. You will take your inheritance to Midgard and you will use it wisely, this I see. This I believe, my son."

Unable to speak aloud, afraid his voice would fail him altogether, Loki nodded. Gravely, Odin nodded back.

"I must prepare; you and Thor leave within the hour," Odin declared and with a last squeeze, Odin left. 

The unexpected words of faith still ringing in his ears, Loki could scarcely focus his thoughts, stunned. He collapsed into his chair, staring unseeing at Thor's chair across the table.


	6. Blood in the Snow

* * *

Frigga found Thor first. He'd drained one flagon and was on his second, and looked chagrined when he saw he had no second to offer her, when she entered. 

"Your father intends you to depart," she said, "so I have come to see you off as I wish in private."

He set down the flagon and strode to embrace her tightly. "All will be well. I will look after him, Mother, I swear."

"And yourself as well," she reminded him, smiling, and kissed his cheek. Then her smile faded and she said with more serious intent, "But hear me, my son. Should Thanos invade the Realms, you cannot fight him alone, no matter the provocation." 

"Is he truly so strong?" 

"Your father fought him in the flower of his youth with knowledge you have not and could only banish him from the Realms. Thanos will not be alone, either -- he always lures and beguiles others to serve him." 

How narrowly they had escaped one of their own being lost to him. She still shivered to think of Loki caught in that cell, believing he had no escape from Thanos but death at his own hand. 

Thor nodded, but he was thinking of something else. "Will you tell the same to Loki? He intends a confrontation." 

"I will warn him, but he listens only to his desire for vengeance. In this, you must be the wiser."

"I will," he promised. 

"Good." She smiled. "Thanos is clever and strong, but he cannot defeat the greatness of Asgard in my sons. You shall prevail." 

He nodded and caught her hand in his to raise it to his lips. "Keep well, Mother. I will return, with Loki. I promise." 

She watched him go, still smiling, and then left to find Loki as well. 

Loki was where Odin had left him. She circled in slowly, as he stared at the tabletop, slumping in his chair. He did not greet her, or seem to notice her presence at all, until she stood beside him.

His voice was very low. "I … have never heard such words from him. Never. They come to the ear so strangely I feel they cannot be true, but I want to believe…" 

She gripped his shoulder. "Believe," she urged. "They are truly meant. He -- and I - have great hope for you, Loki. You stand upon a better path now." 

"And if I should still lose the way?" he asked. "If the path still leads to the same end?" 

Her fingers lifted to caress his cheek. "The path has many ends. It always has; it was only you and your father who believed there was but one. You choose the course, and when you choose in wisdom and compassion, it will end well."

He nodded slightly, accepting her words and, she hoped, believing them. 

"What does he expect of me on Midgard?" he asked. "They will not listen to me; nor will I have anything to say to them that Thor cannot." 

"You know the reason: to face those you offended," she answered. "Those you harmed." 

"I know they hate me already. I need not see it." 

She moved to lean against the table and regard him as he glowered at the table, and knew she and Odin were right to send him. "You must go because you lack understanding of why you must." 

His gaze flicked up to hers, narrowed in irritation. "Word tricks? I thought better of you." 

"If I give you the words that does not mean you will understand them. You must come to it on your own."

 _'Is it so hard to see, little one_?' she thought sadly. ' _But then, true remorse is such a strange creature to you, you scarcely know how to handle it_.'

She bent and kissed the top of his head. "It will be well, Loki. Help them against Thanos, and I think all will fall into place. You have a strong heart once it is made whole again. And that is all we want, my son." She smoothed down his hair and then moved back. "Are you prepared?" 

He shrugged once. "I need only the Casket." 

"Then I will give you the same warning I gave to Thor: you must not seek to confront Thanos alone."

Letting out a wry chuckle, he shook his head. "I do not seek to confront him, at all."

She doubted that but left off arguing. "Good. Watch over Thor. Thanos will try to provoke him into something rash, and you must be the wiser." 

"I will," he promised, and his light eyes affirmed the promise. She smiled-- setting them a charge of each other tended to curb their reckless tendencies, as each saw the foolish behavior in the other far more clearly than in themselves.

"And take care of yourself as well. I could not bear to lose you again."

He stood and then, surprising her, caught her in a brief, but fierce embrace. "Thank you," he whispered. 

She didn't bother to ask for what. "You carry my love with you always -- remember that," she reminded him and smiled. "Now, off with you. Make us all proud." 

With a smiling, youthful backward glance at her, he left, headed for his chambers to fetch the Casket. 

The smile fled her face after she watched him go, as uncertainty seeped back in. Was he ready for this? Was this the right thing to do? Would they get the outcome they hoped for, or would Thanos strike too soon? 

_My sons will defeat you utterly, Thanos. Of that, I have no doubt. If only they have a little more time_. 

Strange to find herself lacking in the one thing she had thought she had in abundance. 

After a deep breath, she raised her head, and she was ready to be the queen of Asgard. 

* * *

It was something of an echo of what the ceremony should have been, Frigga reflected. There was a crowd in the courtyard to watch the princes depart; there were fewer but still many, since Odin had not wanted this to be a secret. 

The guards kept the audience back from the front steps, as the family emerged from the great doors. Frigga moved to the side as Thor and Loki both continued down the steps, and Odin remained at the top. Gungnir hummed against her skin. Odin had charged it with the tesseract, so that it held more power than its usual considerable strength, and the energy wanted to be free.

There were whispers when people saw Loki, wearing his fighting leathers and carrying the Casket of the Ancient Winters. Close by, the Warriors Three and Sif stood in a knot together, and plainly none of them understood not only why he wasn't bound for exile, but held an object of power. Sif's eyes tracked Loki warily, her hand hovering above her sword hilt. Her regard was intense enough Thor noticed and lifted his free hand toward his friends for them to relax.

Loki and Thor both turned to face Odin, as soon as they stood on the stone pavement of the courtyard. Loki kept a careful pace behind and to Thor's left and his head down, ignoring the watchers. 

Odin announced, "Today, our sons go forth to warn our allies in Midgard of the terrible threat Thanos the Eternal poses to them. They go with our confidence that they know their duty."

Loki's jaw clenched and then, abruptly, with far less grace than usual, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. Startled, Thor turned his head to see what Loki was doing, but joined his brother, kneeling beside him. That caused another round of reaction in the audience, this one more approving. 

Frigga was also surprised, both because it had not been planned, and because it was something Loki would not have done of his own volition before. He hated humiliating himself, ever, and she suspected that, whatever he might say, Loki had sabotaged the ceremony to avoid kneeling to both Odin and Thor. But perhaps he finally understood that the symbolism of amends was important in itself. Or at least he was clever enough not to let regicide remain the people's last image of him. Odin gave a small approving nod and came down the steps to rest a hand first on Loki's head, in an unmistakable gesture of forgiveness, and then Thor's. 

"Against Thanos, Asgard can have no stronger protectors," he declared. "Return wiser and in victory. Rise, my sons, you shall not go to another Realm on your knees." 

Both stood as Odin returned to the steps. He held Gungnir aloft, calling lightning and wind, to sweep about the courtyard, before a brighter flash struck, slicing the air asunder and grabbing Thor and Loki up and hurling them away. 

They were gone and Odin ground his spear against the stone, and for a moment, he glared out at the gathering as if daring them to object to what he'd done. 

No one did, though Frigga saw confusion. But she saw also thoughtful curiosity, especially when Volstagg's gaze met hers. He knew there was more to the tale than the family had revealed.

But ultimately, the king had decided and it was over, so the crowd dispersed. No doubt they would gossip and try to understand, but the interest would fade in time. 

She returned inside to attend to her other duties, and let Odin handle those brave enough to question him.

* * *

They arrived in the frigid wasteland of Jotunheim in a flash of light and a flurry of swirling snow. As it settled, Thor looked around warily, Mjolnir ready, in case they had been seen. 

But it seemed the Frost Giants were not close, and Thor saw or heard no sign of any approach. When he was satisfied there was no open threat, he faced Loki, intending to praise his surprising choice to kneel to the king, but Loki was looking toward the ruined city with an odd, distant expression on his face.

"Brother?" Thor asked softly. 

"Wondering what my life would have been if I had been born… right," Loki murmured. "Like one of them."

It pained Thor that Loki thought he had been born wrong. He closed his free hand on Loki's slender shoulder. "I am glad you are who you are." 

Slanting a look at him, Loki rolled his eyes. "You are the most appallingly sentimental idiot. But I suppose it's part of your charm." 

Thor grinned and ruffled his hair, provoking a very undignified yelp and Loki's elbow in his side. "Get off!"

Thor's chuckle deepened to a laugh when Loki tucked the Casket into the aether so he could free both hands to smooth his hair. Loki glared at him darkly for laughing. "Mannerless oaf." 

Thor had to laugh at that, too. It felt so good to have his brother back at his side, insults and all. "Come, let us find your gate and be gone from here before night falls." 

"Yes. My eagerness to get to Midgard is without measure," Loki retorted dryly, but as he turned, something drew his attention. He stopped and then rushed forward, spying a blood spattered trail across the snow.

Thor followed, and stopped where Loki did at the top of a low ridge, to stare in appalled dismay. There was a Frost Giant corpse in the snow. He looked diminished, his great strength and size availing him nothing against whoever had struck him down. Ragged pieces of armor still hung on his frame and his bluish skin stood stark against the snow, marred by the gaping wound in his belly. A spray of scarlet blood colored the snow and his entrails stretched out to one side as if something had pulled them out, and his face had frozen on a look of torment. He held a long-handled axe in his hand, its head unbloodied as though he'd been unable to strike a return blow before falling.

"He died slow, in fear," Thor observed, uneasy at the strange feeling of pity in his chest.

"This was no creature looking for food, only for cruel sport." Loki's hand now held one of his daggers as he looked around warily. "Who killed him?"

"One of his own?" Thor guessed. "A battle amongst the tribes?" There were no prints in the compacted, icy snow to hint at what manner of person or creature had done this. 

Loki shook his head. "They would not leave the weapon." 

Thor turned to look at the ruined city. Among the shadows, were there hostile red eyes watching them? "Ambush and murder, then. I wonder if the murderer watches us. Someone does, I think." 

Loki's gaze followed his and he didn't answer for a moment. 

"Loki?" Thor wondered, concerned as Loki glanced at the corpse and then back to the city, troubled. "What is it?"

"The air feels chill and wrong," Loki murmured. Thor would have made a jest about the air on Jotunheim always being chill and wrong, but Loki's tone meant that something was more ill than usual. He lifted Mjolnir in readiness, as Loki suggested, "Let us not tarry." He abruptly walked away, ordering in an aside, "Find the gate. The anchor is a spherical piece of obsidian the size of my fist. I will build the portal." 

"Very well." Thor thought that seemed reasonable. "Tell me its location."

"You feel nothing? How is it you are their trueborn son and you have the sensitivity of a mushroom?" Even Loki's mockery seemed more reflexive than true, as he glanced around uneasily. He moved a few paces to his left, to find the center of a roughly circular and flat snow-covered area unmarred by stone or touched by the blood, put his back to the city, and planted his feet. Taking out the Casket and holding it in both hands, he shut his eyes as the power began to swirl, utterly refusing to give Thor the least assistance in where to look despite his own desire to leave.

The chiding words struck Thor as the impetus they were meant to be, but instead of retorting and possibly interrupting, he turned away. He had seen Loki's gaze flicker to Thor's left, and so Thor stomped off in that direction to look for the shadowpath gate. This sorcery was no expertise of his, but he had been near enough to the one in the palace to know what its presence should feel like. 

He started to quarter the snow, concentrating on trying to feel for the portal while also keeping an eye toward the apparently abandoned city. There was a sense at the back of his neck as if red eyes were staring at him, but no matter how hard he looked, the broken towers and shadows remained empty. 

Where were they? It hadn't taken long for them to notice the invaders last time, even if they hadn't confronted Thor's group until Thor had forced it. Had that fallen Jotunn been only one of a wider war, fighting to claim Laufey's throne?

 _Because we did that_ , he realized, looking at the fallen towers. The Frost Giants had never repaired the city after the war, their numbers and perhaps their will broken. Perhaps Laufey especially, Thor realized. With his people defeated, his once great city ruined, his only known heir born tiny and weak, and his Casket stolen, Laufey must have felt cursed, but instead of going mad with vengeance, he had retreated into defeat.

Thor glanced at Loki, who was murmuring under his breath, his form shining in the light streaming from the Casket. His expression was taut with the effort, and his fingers gripped the Casket. His hands and face seemed bluish, though still not fully revealed, but neither that nor the shimmering portal building before him was what made Thor gape.

Beneath Loki's feet the snow was re-crystalizing and turning into clear ice, in a widening lake. The winds diminished, and more astonishingly the clouds above opened, a growing round window to reveal silvery stars against the pure black of the void. The power spread outward, uncovering the stones as the ice reared up and crashed like waves on the larger boulders, leaving delicate sprays like the finest spun glass. The rainbow shimmer of the swirling energies reflected in the ice, as if it was another kind of Bifrost. The sight captivated Thor, amazed at the growing beauty.

Was this what Jotunheim had looked like once? More ice and gleaming light, and less snow and shadow? Or was Loki doing that, combining his Asgard learning with his Jotunn power? However it was happening, it was beautiful and he couldn't wait to compliment Loki and watch his reaction, recalling how stunned Loki had been at Thor's appreciation for his ice flower.

This portal seemed quite different from the near-instantaneous process the tesseract had allowed them to use to get home from Midgard, and since it seemed that it would take Loki a few more minutes, Thor turned away and kept looking for the shadowpath gate.

There still seemed be watchful eyes in the shadows of the ruins, pricking like a burr in Thor's back, and his grip shifted uneasily on Mjolnir's handle. He wished the Frost Giants would show themselves, but with all the power visible around Loki now, perhaps they thought better of confrontation. 

But then he felt something aside from the creepy hateful staring, like a hum against his skin and realized he was feeling the gate. He started to inch his way toward it, concentrating on following the slender thread, when Loki suddenly let out a sharp cry. 

Concerned, and guilty that he hadn't been watching Loki's back, Thor whirled, hammer ready. "Loki!" 

His brother was recovering his step after stumbling backward. "Fangs of Fenrir, what was that?" Loki demanded furiously and shook his head as if to clear it. He scrubbed a hand across his face and through his hair.

"What happened?" Thor called to him.

Loki frowned at his portal, where the shimmer had been replaced by a strange swirl of darkness and lightning flashes within its boundary. "This place … it feels different," Loki answered. "The power should all work in harmony here, but does not. There is a **taint** not present before and it fights me. I dislike it, brother. Hurry." Then he frowned at Thor. "Why are you standing there? Do you truly feel nothing at all? Go there!" He gestured fifty meters to Thor's right side.

"I feel it here, close by. Are you certain you recall the location?" Thor called back.

"Of course I am certain!" Loki snapped back, offended. Then his eyes widened and flicked about in alarm, sensing or realizing something which Thor did not, not yet. "Thor, we need to go. Now!" 

Thor did not question. He might not always trust Loki about some things, but in battle, he did absolutely. Something was wrong. Thor threw Mjolnir to rush back to Loki's side, prepared to battle Frost Giants or whatever else it might be. 

He landed, expecting to slip on the icy surface or for it to crack beneath him, but neither happened. He raised Mjolnir prepared to battle and give Loki more time to fix the portal.

But he saw nothing, except for snow falling lightly outside the touch of Loki's power.

About to turn his head and frown at Loki, the sound of a single pair of hands applauding rang across the snowy plain, drawing his attention to a low ridgeline to the west. Standing atop it, lit by a halo of bluish foxfire, stood Malekith, king of Svartalfheim. He glared down at the sons of Odin in hatred as he clapped slowly.

"Malekith," Loki spat in disgust. "I should have known." 

Malekith looked the same as their last encounter, if even more haughty. His ears were large and pointed and his colorless eyes seemed to glow with a feral light in permanently half-shadowed but pallid face. He wore black and silver armor, and a black helmet over his long white hair. But Malekith was no warrior; like Loki, he was a sorceror, and a powerful one. 

At first Thor wondered how Malekith had reached another Realm with the Bifrost broken, but of course he had built the other portal that Thor had felt. He glanced toward the city where the feeling of watchful eyes had ended after Malekith had revealed himself - now the ruins seemed desolate and abandoned. Yet Malekith would not be here alone. Why were the Frost Giants not fighting him and any others with him? Had he slaughtered them all? 

Malekith flickered and disappeared before reappearing twenty meters in front of them. Thor, used to Loki's illusions, knew that Malekith might not be there at all, though Loki threw his dagger as if he was. 

Malekith flicked his fingers and sent the dagger spinning away into the snow before it reached him. "Forget us so soon?" Malekith sneered. "But here you are, little Asgardian princelings. So far from home. Fallen so neatly in our trap."

Trap? How could it be a trap when they had a portal at their back? Thor cast a glance over his shoulder and saw the portal was now a shining, rippling barrier. Malekith's laughter was a shrill wail, and somehow he sounded even more mad than he had before. 

Loki ignored him to murmur urgently to Thor, "When I counterspell and open it, you must warn them of his treachery." 

But Thor let the words pass unheeded, because he would never leave Loki to battle alone. There was no end to the hatred that Malekith felt for Loki. "Loki, no…"

But Loki ignored the protest, taking two steps forward with the Casket. "You seek to challenge me here, Malekith, while I hold this? You are a fool." 

Malekith giggled, and the sound made Thor shudder in revulsion. "Who knew you would have to come here to close your shadowpath gate? We did. Who knew you would come with that as a gift from your precious Odin Allfather? We did. But who earned the vengeance of the most powerful being in all of creation? You did, the Littlest Frost Midget." His chortle grew to a full mocking laugh at Loki's look of horror that his secret was now in the open.

"How--?" Loki whispered.

"He is my brother, even so, Malekith!" Thor threw Mjolnir, furious at the white-faced shock on Loki's face. "We brought you down once, we will do so again." 

Malekith wasn't there, but when he reappeared, Mjolnir nearly got him on its return, but Malekith blinked away at the last moment. And in anger at the near hit, he gestured with his hand.

Loki reared back with a cry as if the gesture had struck him in the chest like a knife blade. He straightened, shaking it off. "Your father was even easier to kill than my own," Loki snarled and, like a viper rising, energy burst out from the casket just as Thor held up Mjolnir and called lightning on him.

Malekith evaded both, teleporting out of the way with a chortle, as the thunder crashed all around. But it was distraction enough because the barrier in front of the portal exploded in a flash of light as Loki tore it away. 

"Thor!" Loki cried. "Tell them, he is in league with Thanos!" 

Thanos. The ice now seemed to form inside Thor, rather than be outside. If Malekith was in league with Thanos, then Thanos had the help into the Nine Realms he'd wanted. And the Svartalfar would be his new army to attack Asgard. 

"Thor, go!" Loki ordered, casting another spell that hit something and rebounded back on them. He held up the Casket to avert his own spell and the energies exploded against the shield Malekith was holding on them. Loki gasped as if hit again and staggered to one knee. "Curse him, he's trying to close it! Go!"

"We will battle him together," Thor declared, pulling him up to his feet with a hand under his elbow. Mjolnir passed beyond the magic shield's boundaries and returned to him, but struck nothing. Malekith was hidden by illusion. 

"We are shielded, you moron, they cannot know unless you go!" 

"Together," Thor refused.

"Oh, so touching," Malekith mocked. His voice echoed across the bare reaches of snow from all directions. "The brothers want to suffer together. And die. We will send your heads to Odin Allfather and he will know our father is at last avenged." 

"Never! Show yourself, coward!" Thor hurled Mjolnir again, targeting the last location of the voice, even though he could see nothing. Beyond the reach of Loki's spell, the snow was falling heavily now, providing more cover to their enemy. 

But a second attacker moved into view on the stony ridge - a large figure in heavy armor who was clearly not Malekith. At first Thor thought it was a Frost Giant, though short, but then Loki identified him with a snarl, "Kurse!" 

Kurse, like Thor himself, was a powerful warrior, and he'd grown more powerful in Malekith's service, assisted by some sort of magical enhancements that made him more of a challenge. Thor knew he was going to have to keep Kurse away from Loki. He clenched his jaw and spun Mjolnir at his side, grimly determined to take Kurse down quickly. 

Malekith attacked again. A bolt of energy smashed down from the heavens, and Loki's defense split the bolt and drove both into the ground ahead of him. They turned to ice on impact, forming into towering columns.

But Kurse was coming, and when Thor threw Mjolnir at him, he parried with his spear. The impact drove him back, but not to the ground, and he kept coming. 

Loki could not be using half of the Casket's actual power. Why was he holding back? "Loki, use it! Take them both!" Thor cried.

"You stopped me the last time I tried to destroy them all! Make up your mind!" Loki yelled back, and Thor realized he was fighting the Casket itself, to keep control. He couldn't unleash it without destroying Jotunheim.

Loki clenched his jaw, as his eyes glowed with a fell light. "The portal!"

Thor glanced backward, seeing the portal was sparking as if Malekith was attacking it, trying to close or shield it again. 

Loki took advantage of his distraction and made his move. "Thor, go!" Loki flung a hand out, and an invisible fist punched Thor off his feet and right at the opening. He shouted in protest, but Mjolnir crossed the event horizon of the portal, pulling him in.

But the moment cost, as Loki fell backward onto the ice, Casket tumbling from his grip. The last Thor saw was Malekith, laughing in glee, as he appeared at Loki's side, and slammed his boot on Loki's chest.

"LOKI! NO!" But the portal cared nothing for his denial or his distress and sucked Thor inside, as he yelled Loki's name. 

The transition was wrenching, as frigid tendrils wrapped him in coils and squeezed before hurling him out the other side.

* * *

tbc..


	7. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Man is our special guest star, as Midgard gets some bad news.

* * *

It was cold, though cold in a different way than Jotunheim, and the wind whipped at him. Thor spun in the air, falling, and as he tumbled, he tried to glimpse where he was. Blue and white, grey and green whirled around, and he gripped Mjolnir tightly and tried to exert some sort of control. 

Clouds gathered to his call, and the wind strengthened, pushing at him to slow his fall. Then something hit him hard in the side out of nowhere, and he punched the attacker off him. 

"Damn it! Stop! Struggling! I'm trying to help!" An artificially amplified voice yelled above the wind and Thor realized his attacker was Tony Stark. 

Iron Man grabbed him and this time, Thor allowed it. The colors stabilized into the sky of Midgard above and the city of New York and Iron Man below. 

Thor clutched his friend's shoulders. "Did anyone else come through?" he demanded.

Stark took a second to answer, glancing upward, and answered, "JARVIS says no. Though there's still time - it's open."

"The portal!" Thor realized with a sudden jolt of fear and shoved Stark off him. He threw Mjolnir upward, to rise higher and higher, desperate to go back through. "We must help him!" 

Above him, the clouds swirled around the portal's opening, exactly where it had been before, high above the city, but it was closing… the dark circle in the middle narrowing… He was not going to reach it in time.

Desperately Thor hurled lightning at it, trying to keep it open. "LOKI!" he yelled. 

But it was for naught. The portal closed, before his eyes, and immediately the sky began to clear. 

Thor let himself fall, overcome. Loki hadn't made it through behind him. He was Malekith's prisoner. 

Stark tried to break his fall, but Thor still landed hard. But it mattered not at all. He climbed to his feet, ignored the shattered floor he'd left and retrieved Mjolnir, calling it to him with an impatient hand.

Stark landed beside him, and flipped up the faceplate to expose a concerned face. "Didn't expect to see you back so soon. Welcome. Even if you just scared the pants off a bunch of New Yorkers, expecting evil aliens back again." 

Thor barely heard him, as he walked past to the edge of the walkway and looked up at the sky. "Heimdall!" he bellowed. "Heimdall. Tell Father. Malekith has him! Malekith is in league with Thanos. Bring me home!" 

He waited, hoping for that transition as Odin grabbed the tesseract and pulled him back, but nothing happened. 

"I'm guessing he can't hear you," Stark said, standing at his side. 

"He hears," Thor answered bleakly. "I hope he hears. But I must wait." He realized Stark had caught him in his plummet out of the portal, and said belatedly, "I thank you for your assistance."

"Sure. Once the portal started to open, I was on deck. Literally on deck, up there, fixing the sign, and I was going to fight the evil aliens. There were no evil aliens, but there you were, doing a great falling rock impression, so I thought I'd better catch you before you made a big hole in my building. Then you went and made a hole anyway." His tone was dry and sort of annoyed, but his eyes and the grip of his hand on Thor's shoulder put a lie to that. 

Stark headed back to the inside of the building, shedding the Iron Man suit as he went. He gestured broadly, "Come in. You want a drink? And you can tell me what the hell that was all about."

Thor cast his eyes once more at the dissipating clouds, revealing blue sky and sunlight, wishing for a return of the shroud of clouds. It all seemed wrong that the sky should be so bright when his heart was so dark. Thor glanced up at the sky, hoping that the energies would seize him and pull him back home, but when nothing happened he turned and followed Tony within. The room had been repaired, the glass all replaced, and Thor presumed it had been longer on Earth than it had seemed on Asgard, time enough to fix most of the damage inflicted on the building.

Stark went to the alcohol storage cabinet and poured for both of them. Thor was conscious this time of the glass, now knowing it was not Earth custom to throw breakables on the floor. It was good though, this whiskey.

"So, I heard you yell his name, so let me guess, your supervillain brother screwed things up again?" Stark asked. "He escaped and made trouble and was about to attack us?"

"No." Thor's hands clenched to restrain himself from backhanding Stark for the insult. He reminded himself that Stark did not know of all that had happened beyond the confines of Midgard. "It is much more complicated than you know. We had been on our way to warn you of a new threat, when an old enemy ambushed us." 

Stark seemed stunned by that, his mind forced to reorient itself to information he did not expect.

"Wait. So, Loki was not in jail? Is that what you're telling me? After all he did - he tried to conquer the planet, killed a whole bunch of people, and he's _free_?" Stark demanded, incredulous, and in growing anger. "What kind of justice do you have there on Asgard?"

The reminder felt like an abrupt return to Jotunheim down his spine. Thor had put aside Loki's fell deeds in his attack on Midgard, and he would rather not think of them now either. "He was made well," Thor answered brusquely. "My mother was able to pry loose the thorns of madness and thrall from his mind. Just now, Loki sacrificed himself so that I could bring warning of the enemy we face." He paused and made note of Stark's surprised and disbelieving expression. Thor drained the cup and set it carefully on the surface of the table. He added more softly, "You name him villain, and I understand why you see him thus, but we discovered there was a hand on the Chitauri and on Loki, too. That hand will make his attempt but a feint with a wooden sword, when the steel falls upon this world."

Tony hesitated, gaze flickering as he thought, and when he nodded it was with a weary inevitability, "You telling me there was a bigger big bad behind him, pulling the strings?"

Thor nodded. "Just so. An ancient power named Thanos the Eternal. He was made immortal and very powerful through intervention of the Celestials, and he believes the only fair match for himself in all the universe is Death herself. So to win her hand, he seeks the subjugation and death of every being in the Nine Realms until he wins her." 

"And I thought I knew some psychos," Tony muttered. "Damn. So he's tough, and hard to kill. So are our friends. It'll be fine." 

Thor wished Loki was there - this was the part he had been intended for, to explain the seriousness of this foe. "You do not understand. Thanos is not 'hard to kill', as I am myself; my father, Odin Allfather, battled Thanos millennia ago, and could not wound him. My brother has spent every hour of every day since his release, seeking magics that will unmake Thanos, without success. To all the knowledge of Asgard, there is nothing which will end him."

Tony gave a little laugh. "You can't mean _nothing_ nothing."

Thor did not share his humor but leaned toward him, in earnest hope that Stark would understand the gravity of the situation. "Odin Allfather thrust him outside Jormungandr, and only an artifact of immense power such as the tesseract can create a portal to breach that barrier. That barrier is the sole true protection we have." Stark appeared to be finally taking this threat seriously. 

"You're going to have to tell me about this barrier later," Stark said, and waved a hand. "But go on."

"That is why Loki was sent with me -- he understands the nature of such things better than I do." That was not the only reason, but Thor felt it was not proper to speculate on his parents' motives to send Loki on this quest. "Thanos first attempted to cross through by corrupting Loki and gaining the tesseract, and now that has failed, he has allied with our ancient foe Malekith the Accursed. And just now, as we visited Jotunheim, we found Malekith there before us. He and Loki fought, and Loki pushed me through the portal." It was maddening that Loki had done something so recklessly brave. 

_Why did you do it, Loki? We could have fought together. I promised Mother I would bring you home again, safe, but not an hour out of Asgard, you slip from my grip once more_.

Thor's gaze slipped past Stark to the sky through the windows, wishing he could see that tear in space-time that would be a portal announcing Loki's escape. But Malekith was mad, not stupid, and he would not let it be so easy. Thor swallowed hard, barely able to find his voice under the pressure of his dark imaginings. "Unless he can contrive some escape, Loki is now his prisoner. Malekith relishes the suffering of others, and he will have no mercy for his most hated enemy. Perhaps you find it just, but I cannot think of it as anything but horror that the Accursed will torture and murder my brother."

He glanced back at Stark, who shook his head once. "Torture and murder? Nope, not justice." His voice seemed light but his brown eyes held sympathy; little for Loki himself perhaps, but at least for Thor. "So you have to wait for your interdimensional ride to go to his rescue?"

Thor nodded, miserable. Until his father pulled him forth, he had no path home nor path to rescue Loki. _Brother, stand fast. I will come for you, I swear._

* * *

The box was small and dark. There was a power dampening spell inscribed in the metal, over every surface he could touch with his fingers. Loki could conjure nothing at all inside, not even a spark. There seemed air enough, from somewhere, though he could find no holes in the surface.

Not that the box needed to stop anything, not with the collar Malekith had snapped around his neck. It felt like a thin metal circlet, flimsy as aluminum, but it would not break or come off, no matter what Loki did to it. Like the box, it too was carved in sigils, but this one tightend the collar like a noose every time he tried to conjure something. 

Malekith's spell and Kurse's strength had forced Loki into the box, despite his struggles. Malekith's laughter was the last thing Loki had heard before the box shut.

No sound, no light. In his cramped position, head forced next to his knees, there was little room to shift position. The box shifted with movement, but not as often as it should have, being carried, and Loki could tell nothing of direction or if they were still on Jotunheim at all.

He had to run his fingers over the rough inside of the box to remind himself that he was not in the abyss again. The darkness pressed on him, from all directions, and he felt as if he were falling again. A scream bubbled up in his chest, but he held it back, reminding himself feverishly where he was and what had happened. 

_I am not there, not there, not there again. Not falling. Not falling. Not in the void. Not there_.

But the creeping monster of _nothingness_ hooked its claws in him, as past and present darkness tangled.

 _Not there. Not there. Not the nothing_.

Fingers rubbed on the rough walls, desperately tracing runes to remember that he was not falling.


	8. The Withering Nightflower

Frigga smiled warmly at the young girl who trembled as she handed the queen a single stalk of a nightflower. "Thank you, child, this is quite beautiful. Would you show me inside?" 

The queen's school was one of Frigga's special projects in the city, to see that education was for all the children, and her visits were the highlight of her day when she went. So many bright young minds, still young enough to want to learn.

She followed the girl up the steps, when the sound of a horse's hooves on the pavement clattered close and fast. Her guards drew close in ranks beneath the steps, as the horse trotted into view. 

At once she saw Fandral atop his white mare. "My queen!" he saluted and dismounted with his usual flair, if a bit hurried, and bowed to her. "My queen, excuse the interruption, but the Allfather requests your return." His smile faded. "There is news. The children should go home at once." 

Her eyes met his, as sudden anxiety filled her. The boys had barely left, and surely it was no coincidence that there was urgent news. But she showed only calm, not revealing her worry to the children or the maesters of the school. She turned to the maesters on the top step. "Then it will be as he wills. Maester Jorgen, send the children to their homes. An official announcement shall not be long." She smiled at the child who had given her the flower and touched the girl's nose with the petals. The girl was not fooled though, and looked up at her with big eyes. "All will be well, child. Be strong. I will visit again soon." 

She smoothed the girl's hair with her hand, and then walked down the steps, unhurried. Fandral offered his horse to her, but she shook her head in refusal - she would leave the people an impression of strength and calm, not panicked flight. She held the nightflower stalk in one hand as she walked. 

Fandral gave over his horse to another to walk, and moved to her side at her gesture as they left the school courtyard. "What news?" she asked.

"He did not say, my queen. Only that I was to fetch you." 

"And?" she insisted. For that was not all that Fandral knew.

"And. And he seemed concerned. He had word sent to Freyr to be ready." 

Freyr was on the outer walls of the city, that meant an attack. She hastened her steps and eyed the horse, but decided Odin had not told her to return in all haste; there was time. 

At the palace, she hurried within, Fandral at her heels, to find Odin in his work room. The king dismissed Fandral, and gestured for her to come near. She saw the display was now Asgard from above, with the city itself in miniature, covered by the tesseract-powered force shield dome. An incursion from outside Asgard should appear on this map, though she saw no sign of anything in her glance.

"We face attack?" she asked.

"Not yet, but very soon, I believe," he said, but that was not what deepened the lines in his face in worry. "Heimdall sent fell news. Malekith ambushed Thor and Loki on Jotunheim. Thor escaped to Midgard and is well; he is the one who told us."

He would not have said it thus if both were well. Her hands clasped together, as between them, the nightflower petals wilted and the edges turned brown. "Loki?"

"Taken prisoner. They are already within Malekith's halls and shielded from Heimdall's gaze." 

She tried mightily not to let her lip quiver, even as her mind filled with the news. Prisoner. Malekith _hated_ Loki, always had, but especially after that last battle with Svartalfheim and Durn's death. Even as Asgard had lauded mostly Thor for that victory, Malekith had known who had been the most responsible for his defeat.

But she was not so shocked she did not know there was still more. "Go on." 

"Thor passed word that Loki felt the touch of Thanos' power in Malekith. Thanos has found his new alliance." 

Thanos. In her hand, the nightflower withered and died from the force of her horror. She stared at the ghostly echo of the lovely flower it had been, dismayed by the omen, then set the crumpled, brown stalk on the table with a hand that wanted to tremble.

Their enemies had made alliance, and Loki was in their hands. But no, that could not be entirely true, at least not yet. "Malekith does not possess the power to open a portal through Jormungandr." 

"He does now, with the Casket of Ancient Winters." 

She shook her head. "None but Loki can use it. It will not avail him," she declared, certain and proud. But she was then unsettled when Odin glanced at her, sympathy in his face for a moment.

"They will _persuade_ him otherwise, Frigga." 

Her hand went to her chest as her breath caught. He was talking about foul and vicious torments to force Loki to open the portal. She remembered hearing him scream in the cell as he fell victim to Thanos' punishments then. She closed her eyes remembering other warriors, those brought for healing after the last battle with Svartalfheim. Some had not been hurt in battle, but as captives, when Durn and Malekith his son had tortured them, seemingly for no better reason than sport. She had seen what was left, and some had begged her to end their pain.

More softly, Odin added, "In the end, he will open the way."

"He will not," she protested. "He is strong, and he hates them -- he will not bend." 

"He will hold as long as he can, I do believe that, too," he reassured her, "but he will not withstand them forever." For a moment he looked grey and burdened with deep sorrow. "No one could."

"Then we must free him." 

Odin turned away, so he wouldn't have to look at her, hiding his gaze by looking at the image of Asgard in the multi-dimensional display. "We cannot."

"Why not?" she asked, keeping her voice level and calm as she could, even as the desire to rage at him for saying such a thing rose up within her.

"Because Svartalfheim gathers for the attack," he said. "Malekith lets Heimdall see as much. He seeks either to attack us to gain the Gauntlet and tesseract, or bottle us here and attack elsewhere."

She rested her hands on the edge. "But not yet. They are not here, yet. Bring Thor home. When the Svartalfheim army departs the capital, they will be lightly defended, Thor and the Warriors Three might enter and find him." 

He shook his head once in denial. "Malekith's hall is a great underground labyrinth. None know the way. And lightly defended is not the same as not defended at all. It would not succeed. At best, it would require an external distraction but I cannot risk dividing our forces when we must keep the Treasures from him and we may yet face Thanos emerging elsewhere. Midgard is vulnerable and Thor must stay with them, as we planned." 

It was all far too _reasonable_ and she wanted to hear none of it. She slammed her hands on the table. "So then we leave Loki there? No. I saw what Malekith did to his victims in the last war, husband, I will **not** allow my son to suffer thus, not while I sit here untouched."

His head turned sharply toward her. "Your' son?" he repeated, and his hands clenched.

She glared back uncowed and challenged, "If Thor were the one captive, this would not even be a _discussion_." 

"If their places were reversed, I would know Loki could free him!" Odin bellowed at her, temper fraying. He turned away and calmed himself with difficulty. "Thor cannot. His skills are of little help in Malekith's halls."

The offer sprang from her lips, spontaneous, but truly intended for all that, "Then I will go." 

He turned back to her, aghast. "No!"

"I have similar skills. I too can walk unseen when I choose." 

"You are a healer, not a warrior." 

That made her smile a little. "Do you forget how we met, husband?"

"No, of course not," he admitted, grudgingly. "But you have not wielded sword and shield since before Thor was born." 

"The armor fits still. And I slew a Frost Giant not long ago."

For a moment he looked tempted to agree with her desperate plan, but then he shook his head. "No. Without an army, without support, it would fail. And I will not allow some desperate attempt that serves only to throw your own life away or ends you captive, too. Loki would never want that."

Which might be true, but it was the wrong way around. Children should not sacrifice their lives for their parents. Her eyes burned with sudden tears and she implored, "Parents owe a duty to protect their children. We failed with him; I will not fail him again." 

"Defeating Svartalfheim is our duty. The swifter that is done, the swifter Svartalfheim will free him." 

It was not swift enough. She spun away to pace around the table, needing to move, to do something even if it was no help. The more thoughtful part of her knew he was right, but the stronger part, fearful for her son, needed to help, to make some sort of plan. There had to be a way. Then it occurred to her that she was behaving exactly like Loki - desperate for some plan, tempted to mad ideas because her heart needed to do this. 

But the thought of Loki gave her an idea. And maybe it was desperate but it might work. 

She faced Odin again. "Jotunheim."

He frowned, not understanding. "And?"

"I will go to them, rouse them as the army against Svartalfheim. Malekith will never expect a second line of attack from them." 

Odin regarded her as if he was both impressed and wondering if she were mad. "Why would they march?"

"Because they know or will know that Loki is Laufey's heir," she answered steadily. If they did not know, she would tell them, even if she knew it was against Loki's wish. To save his life she would do more and worse. "That secret is known now; we should use it to our advantage. They would feel threatened if you or one of the warriors demanded it of them, but I am a woman and a mother, I can speak to them without threat. I will _persuade_ them."

He sought the map of Asgard, shutting his eye in conflicted distress. "Asgard needs you here; I need you here."

"But Loki needs me more."

He did not disagree and bowed his head, saying miserably, "I cannot have all my family scattered to the winds. I cannot lose all of you." 

She leaned against his strong arm and reached up to stroke the smooth, white hair. "Thor is safe enough on Midgard; he has his powerful friends there. But Loki is alone, surrounded by enemies. He needs us to come for him, to risk for _him_. What he would do for his brother, we must do for him." She shook her head, resolved on this course. "If we do not try or if he believes we have abandoned him, he will never forgive us. We will lose him." Loki's trust was still a tender sprout, and if it was broken, she feared her son would not return to her, even if he survived this captivity.

Odin nodded somber agreement, recognizing the truth of that. He surrendered to the inevitable, as she had known he would. "Very well. But not alone. I will send the Warriors Three with you as protection, and if the jotnar attack you --" his voice took on that threatening growl that warned of dire consequence and reminded her of that warrior she'd first known, so long ago.

She smiled. "You may ride to my rescue." He curled his arms around her to hold her tightly and she felt his breath on her hair. They had grown distant in their unspoken disagreements over Loki, and now seemed to be recovering that closeness of their younger years.

"You must promise you will be careful, taking up none of your sons' recklessness," he demanded.

"Oh, so now they are _my_ sons, are they? They did not inherit recklessness from me," she retorted, pulling back a little ways. 

"Claims the queen who intended to go to Jotunheim alone," he returned drily, and she had to grant him that point. 

"So perhaps from both of us," she allowed, and smoothed his beard. "But I promise. Shall we arm together, my lord? Long has it been since those days." 

"Indeed." He held out his arm for her to take. "Dark days and bright deeds await, my lady."


	9. In the Hall of the Dark Elf King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: as I mentioned early on, but we're now reaching the stage where it's more relevant, there are certain parts inspired by myth/comics canon, but this story is its own 'verse.

* * *

He was slipping, mind turning on itself, trapped in this too small space and devoured by the darkness. 

Something shook him hard, bouncing his head into the wall. It was a box, not the nothingness again. 

But there was no time to gather himself together, as the walls of the box collapsed, letting in a cacophony of sound. He flinched and tried to cover his eyes from the blinding light after an eternity in the dark, but his muscles twinged with pain, as his limbs gracelessly flopped to the floor. In the light, he saw his skin was frost pale and his nails were black. The power-dampening collar had stripped the illusion from his skin. In sudden panicked revulsion, he tried to call the illusion back, only to have the collar tighten on his throat, hand clawing at it to try to yank it looser.

He lay on the floor, trying to breathe, humiliation of his true appearance burning through him worse than the binding around his neck. Reaching for power to attack made it worse, and the collar burrowed into his flesh.

Malekith laughed in mad delight, the sound skittering down Loki's spine like tiny spiders. _Prisoner of the Accursed. Get a hold on yourself or he wins_. 

Loki closed his eyes as he forced himself not to reach for power, until the collar loosened again and he could take a breath. Then, he sat up to see where he was.

Malekith's throne room in Svartalfheim, this was. Loki had never been here before, but it could be no other place. 

It seemed a poor imitation of the grand hall in Asgard. There was a high ceiling and a huge throne up on a dais, but since they were underground, the space was lit only by artificial lights, some with the clear steadiness of power and others by the flicker of flame, but not enough to light the high vaulted ceiling to more than dank shadows. The side pillars were thick and graceless, carved in geometric patterns and bounded in iron fencing their lower halves. There were many dark elves in the hall, warriors in armor and rank, standing in rows.

The dais itself and throne were better lit, gleaming on the pale whiteness of Malekith's hair unbound and the scarred face of his. His great sword sheathed at his side, Kurse stood behind Loki, gleaming in his laughably ornate new armor. 

There was another figure, hooded and cloaked, standing on the lower step of the dais, off to the side, who immediately attracted Loki's attention by his attempt to appear anonymous. 

But then he saw that Malekith held the Casket of the Ancient Winters on his lap, and Loki gritted his teeth furiously. _That is mine. I should have used it to rip you apart on Jotunheim, and if I get the chance again, I will not hold back_. 

Malekith saw the direction of his gaze and chortled, holding it up. "You want this, Frost Midget? It's ours now." 

Loki pushed himself to his feet and smirked at Malekith. "It belongs to me." 

"Kneel to the king," Kurse warned in a deep growl.

Loki scoffed, "I see no king. Only a worm that lives in the dirt."

Kurse struck, one gauntled hand grabbing him by the back of the neck and slamming him to the floor. It felt like getting hit by Mjolnir. _I will peel that flashy armor from your body and then the flesh from your bones, Kurse_.

Malekith laughed, as did many in the audience, and Loki clenched his hands, trying to stay focused on what was important. As he straightened, he eyed the distance between himself and the Casket. If he could get a hand on it, the overflow should break the collar, and he could cast a winter in this hall and kill all of them.

But it was too far. He had to play for time. But luckily that was one of his skills. 

With Kurse's gauntleted hand on his shoulder to keep him on his knees, Loki lifted his chin to look at Malekith and chuckled. "It occurs to me if you had come to me just one year ago, we might have been allies. But you missed your window to invite me to join you." 

"This is not an invitation to join us," Malekith spat. 

"Just as well, I have had my fill of allies who are murderous lunatics." He expected Kurse to hit him for that and was not disappointed as Kurse clouted him to the floor. When Loki straightened again, he was a full body length closer to the throne.

Malekith sneered, "You are nothing." 

"I am master of the Casket of Ancient Winters. You can caress it all you wish; it will never open for you." 

"We shall see about that, Frost Midget." 

Loki decided the term didn't really bother him - had he been raised a Jotunn maybe it would be annoying or hurtful, but as he was average stature for Aesir, it had no bite. He smirked back. "I can hide my skin if I wish, but alas for you, there's no illusion great enough to cover stupidity." 

Kurse hit him again, but the look on Malekith's face was worth the slamming pain to his ribs. But Loki realized he had pushed it too far, as Malekith yelled, "Take him below! Teach him pain! And fear and respect!"

Kurse grabbed him by the neck, and guards fell in with them to force Loki toward an archway to the right side of the dais. 

Loki shouted, "Who can respect a king who kneels to Thanos the Eternal?" 

For a moment, as Kurse shoved him through the archway, Loki thought his counter-measure had failed, but then Malekith called for them to stop and bring Loki back. 

Loki suppressed a smile and hung his hed so his hair fell in his face and let him conceal his gaze as he searched the nearby faces for reaction. Oh yes, that had been a surprise to some of them, and now Malekith had to control the damage. _Poor mad Dark Elf king, you think caging my powers and having your servant slap me around will defeat me? I have faced worse than you in my own hall, and you are a pale shadow of your new master_.

Kurse thrust him to the ground at the foot of the dais. Malekith left the Casket in his throne and walked down the shallow white stone steps. "We kneel to no one." He backhanded Loki with his gauntlet, which gave Loki a chance to look at the hooded figure lurking in the shadows to the left. But still he couldn't tell who it was, except the person had some status to stand upon the dais at all.

Loki laughed in Malekith's face, making sure his voice would carry, "You kneel to him. You serve him. Believe me, you serve him. And when he is done with you, you and your army will be dead on the field, as he burns us all to ash, you fool." 

Malekith seized him by the throat and yanked him close to glare into his eyes. "We will destroy Asgard and Jotunheim and Midgard - everything Asgard holds dear - we will make them kneel to us. We will have our revenge. And before that, you will suffer and you will know fear. Maybe someday we will let you die."

He thrust Loki from him and returned to his throne to replace the Casket on his lap, fondling it greedily. "Remove this Jotunn trash," he sneered. "Take it below and bind it." 

Loki knew he would get no better chance.

In that instant when no one had a hand on him, Loki lunged for the Casket, darting up the steps, low and fast with a hand out. Needing just to touch it… 

A heavy weight fell on him, crashing him across the steps, immobilizing him only a few hand spans from his target. Kurse. Loki struggled, but he had no leverage and no weapon and in a moment, found the blade of Kurse's dagger pressing against his ribs. 

Reluctantly, Loki stilled. 

Malekith kicked him in the face. "We shall punish you for that." 

Loki worked his jaw, made sure he had all his teeth, and narrowed his eyes, hate like liquid fire in his veins. _I should have killed you on that day I killed your father_. He gave a strained chuckle, Kurse's weight heavy on his back. "Odin Allfather will take back his mercy and destroy you." 

Kneeling down, Malekith seized Loki's hair in a fist and wrenched his head back, "You think he will come for you, the unwanted fake son?" he hissed. "He is **ashamed** of you. Why else would he hide this hideousness from the Nine Realms?" 

The words hit their mark, but Loki was far too deep in his hate to flinch and he bared his teeth. "You're an expert of hideousness, Malekith, so you tell me." 

"Shall we cut out your tongue, serpent?" Malekith threatened, the talons on his other hand digging into Loki's jaw and cheeks. "Or make it pleasure us?"

"I suppose it would be hard to find willing bedmates, looking like that," Loki taunted.

Speechless with fury, Malekith pulled his hair sharply, whispering words to tighten the noose again. The pressure on his neck grew tighter and tighter, and Loki clenched his jaw against the pain, refusing to give Malekith any satisfaction.

A female voice called suddenly, "Brother!" 

Malekith hesitated, letting Loki have a chance to suck in a breath. She had to be Sigyn, Malekith's sister. 

Her voice sounding nearer, she said more softly for Malekith alone, not the audience, "I beg you, think of what you do. If you kill him, how do you learn to control the Casket?"

Malekith let go and stood. "He provokes us." 

"Of course he does," Sigyn murmured. "He desires a quick death. He fears what you will do." 

Loki considered denying that, but Kurse pulled him up to his knees by his wrists up the back, and that let Loki get a look at her. She must have been the one in the hooded cloak, though her hood was now back on her shoulders, so he could see her face. She looked like any other Dark Elf, her long white hair tied back in a braid with the large eyes and ears, but there was something about her that drew his attention. It didn't seem quite… right, somehow, and he stared at her, trying to figure out what it was. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Sigyn." 

She strode closer to him and her foot lashed out to hit him in the jaw. She had some strength in her foot, if not quite enough to do more than make him feel it. "Do not speak to your betters, beast."

"If I had any betters, I would keep that in mind." He grinned at her, unafraid. He could sense how his lack of fear was throwing them off balance, and best of all, they knew it wasn't a pretense. Because he wasn't afraid of them.

Sigyn, who seemed far more sane than her brother, looked him in the face. "You think you are so strong. But we will avenge my father's death, and you will beg for mercy long before we grant it." 

He met her eyes and smirked. "I am exactly where I wish to be." 

That troubled her, her expression falling with doubt, before she rallied, "You are our prisoner and no one can save you." 

"And who will save you?" he countered. 

Unnervingly Malekith laughed and looked to Kurse. "Take him below, and then, friend, we begin our attack."

Loki's gaze snapped to the warriors waiting in the hall, realizing they weren't there just to witness Loki's capture. Malekith laughed again. "Oh, yes, princeling. Now that we have one of you safe in our net, we set forth to crush our enemies and take what is ours." 

He was going to attack Asgard.

Kurse shoved him out of the great hall, and even though Loki carefully kept track of the path, most of his thoughts clung to that revelation with dismay. 

_Thor, I hope you made it home. They need you_. 

They marched down the dim stone halls deeper and colder into realms of heavy iron doors and faint cries of pain and despair. Loki let his situation sink in, realizing this was probably going to be quite terrible. Walking ahead of Kurse and the other guards where no one could see his face, Loki dampened dry lips and his eyes darted for escape routes that did not exist.

 _And brother, when you are finished with them, I would not at all mind if you come fetch me, too_.

* * *

They cut off his surcoat and tunic to bare his upper body and make sure he had no weapons or tools, and chained his wrists and ankles spread, with his feet barely against the floor. It was tolerably uncomfortable, but when the door shut there was no light. His eyes strained to find anything, and any attempt to cast the merest flicker tightened the metal around his throat.

But as his eyes grew adjusted to the blackness, there was a tiny bit of light coming through the panel in the door directly before him. He stared at that shard of light to keep his mind anchored in the present, while he worked his hands against their wrist cuffs, finding his left was a little loose.

The door opened again and Malekith and four armed guards entered, and Malekith gestured blue foxfire lanterns attached to the walls aglow. Even if it was to see his enemy, Loki was glad for the light. 

Malekith stalked across the floor and Loki smirked. "You found out you cannot use it, did you not? You tried everything and it will not bend for you. I warned you."

Malekith kicked him. The spike at the tip of his boot drove into his belly. It wouldn't break the skin, but the strength of the blow made Loki gasp. "It is keyed to your blood." Malekith's eyes burned into his. "Your blood activates the Casket."

"It belongs to me, you monstrosity," Loki spat, unwilling to give a hair's breadth. "You shall never control it." 

"Blood. Blood is the secret. We can make your blood serve ours, bind us together." 

Loki laughed. "You think to _trick_ it? Fool."

Malekith held up a dagger with a slender handle and a long enough blade it could be classed as a sword. He let Loki see the runes carved into it and, with a vicious grin, he stabbed it straight into Loki's side. 

He let out a grunt at the force of it but clenched his jaw on a cry as Malekith twisted the blade.

 _Oh ancestors_. His body reacted, back arching in a futile attempt to get away, and his hands yanked against the bonds.

Malekith pulled the knife out and with a sneer, he put his claws into the wound, trying to make Loki cry out with the pain, but Loki held the scream in his throat, while he glared at Malekith and silently promised to rip him limb from limb. 

Malekith finally pulled his hand away and deliberately licked the blood off his fingers. "Never tasted Jotunn blood before. We look forward to drinking yours though - it's delicious." 

It was hard to unclench his jaw to speak, but Loki forced his voice to return in a low hard whisper, "You are a vile creature. And I will enjoy tearing your heart out."

Malekith hit him in the side of his head, snapping his head back, and Loki lost his footing, sagging in his chains and straining his shoulders. Finding his feet again was a fight, as the wound burned and he felt blood coursing down his bare flank.

Malekith grabbed Loki's chin with his bloodied fingers. "Your death will be hard and slow."

Loki smirked at him, challenging, "Try. If you kill me, the Casket will crack open this realm and Jormungandr will consume it utterly. And I will be avenged."

Malekith's eyes flickered, considering Loki's words. Few knew much about the Casket, but everyone knew about artifacts that were spell-keyed to individuals and reacted poorly to their owner's deaths. Hopefully the doubt would keep Loki alive long enough to get out of this hell hole. No matter how long or unpleasant his stay might be. 

"No matter. Blood binding will give us control of it." Malekith spun away, to grab a small metal cup off the table by the wall. He held it against Loki's skin to catch the blood. When the flow slowed as the cut healed, he stepped back and raised it to his lips, to murmur over it and drink it. 

He chortled at the disgusted look on Loki's face and then abruptly, stabbed him again in the thigh. Loki nearly bit through his lip as the bespelled blade pierced his flesh again. Malekith laughed and ordered his men, leaving the knife in him, "Bleed him. We want a basin full by sunrise." 

After Malekith was gone, Loki tried coaxing them out of doing it, but they ignored him utterly, their eyes dulled by Malekith's sorcerous thrall. 

The night passed slowly - no food, no drink, no rest, only sharp blades and blood.

* * *

tbc...


	10. A Realm Awakens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My vacation tragically comes to a close today, so there shouldn't be any more interruptions in the posts. The story's past the half-way point now, and I'd love to hear from you! :D

* * *

In the Great Hall, the king and queen stood before their warriors, in their armor, and Frigga could see some amazement that she wore hers again. Many were too young to remember the queen's fighting days, and she noticed Sif especially was staring at her as if the queen had turned into someone else entirely.

It was armor fit for a queen, enchanted and light. The front plate gleamed silver though it was of a much stronger substance, and bore her original personal standard of a leaf from Yggdrasil. She would not wear her helm though, but instead her hair carefully braided and her golden coronet pinned to it, for she went not as a warrior, but as the queen.

His gaze somber and appreciative, Odin held out her own blade from long ago, when they had found one another during the battle to bring Asgard out of darkness. 

At first he would not relinquish the weapon, holding it as if to hold her back from her quest, but then he let it go into her hand. She sheathed it and took his war helm from Fandral who stood on the lower step and she held it out in both hands.

Odin went to one knee before her, his cloak flaring behind him like the wing of a great bird, and she placed it on his head. Then he stood again and held out his hand, Gungnir coming into it with a flash of lightning.

"Today," Odin declared, his great voice thundering in the hall. "Malekith the Accursed declared war on us. He has ambushed my sons, hurled Thor to Midgard, and taken Loki prisoner. He gathers his army to attack us. We know he serves Thanos the Eternal, and attacks in his name. We must fight and we must defeat them. The Nine Realms depend upon us to hold this tide of darkness. So we will fight. We fight!"

The return of "We fight!" was defeaning, as the warriors beat their shields.

He started down the steps, Gungnir streaming light like a beacon. Frigga followed him, wishing the boys were there to go ahead of her. Fandral came behind her, Volstagg and Hogun falling in, with Sif hurriedly coming after. 

Outside the hall, where the roar of the crowd was not so loud, Frigga told Volstagg, "You three meet me in the inner courtyard."

She started away and behind her, she heard Sif ask Hogun, sounding very puzzled, "Where are you going?" 

"We go to protect the queen."

"Where? From what?"

Frigga went back, to explain to Sif. "I go to Jotunheim, Sif. To persuade them to join us and help free Loki from Svartalfheim."

Sif stared wide-eyed as if this was all too much. "You go to Jotunheim? Is that wise?" 

Frigga nearly laughed. "My son has been taken by Malekith the Accursed, Sif. I do not have **time** for wisdom. Only action."

Sif drew her sword and dropped to one knee, bowing her head and raising the sword across her hands in offering. "My queen, will you accept my service? My sword is yours." 

Frigga did not have to consider, though the offer was surprising. She reached out and touched the sword. "I will, Lady Sif. I thank you. Gather your gear. We may be in the field for some time. Be in the inner courtyard in thirty minutes, when the Allfather will send us on our quest." 

Sif nodded sharply and stood, resheathing her sword and hurrying away to find her cloak. 

Volstagg watched her go and let out a rumbly laugh. "Never have I seen Lady Sif so utterly confounded." 

"Many are, old friend. We are, all of us, the sum of parts both seen and unseen." She lifted her eyes, thinking of Loki. "Yet many hold an unchanging image in their mind, and they forget there is more."

"I have not. For I recall you, fierce as a lioness in battle," Volstagg declared. "Alas I did not steal you away from the great wolf, when I was younger and even better-looking."

She had to chuckle at that, and he smiled, patting her arm. "There. Better to see you smile. We will rescue Loki, my queen. And for whatever part I played in this with my jocund words, I swear I will aid you in whatever you need done."

"Your words were ill-chosen, but Malekith holds the fault."

"He shall see the glint of our swords and the touch of our axes," Volstagg declared. 

Fandral bowed with a flourish, adding, "Aye. We shall not leave your side until you and Loki are safe once more." Behind him, Hogun nodded his firm agreement. 

"Thank you all." Her gaze touched each of them, glad to have them and Sif with her. "It is time."

* * *

After Malekith's minions left and took the light and blood with them, Loki fell into a doze, aches remaining in his shoulders and ribs as his body healed itself from the greater damage from the cursed blade. 

But he was still aware of his surroundings, and when the air shifted against his skin, he stilled, prodded back to alertness. Visitor. Someone had opened the small observation window in the door, to look at him from the corridor outside.

"Please, come in," he called, keeping his voice as level as he could. "You needn't stand on ceremony, I think." 

The window flap shut, restoring the darkness, and for a moment he was disappointed his words had failed, but then the door wrenched open. Perfect.

He blinked his eyes, wishing he dared conjure some form of light. Then a faint gleam appeared, moving toward him, and he saw the shadowy figure of a woman. There was only one she could be. 

The foxfire lanters on the wall flared back to bluish light, revealing who he had expected.

At least she wasn't insane. This might have promise. "Lady Sigyn, pleased to see you again." 

Her foot lashed out into his midsection. When he'd found his balance again, and the shooting pains in his shoulders subsided, he said dryly, "Apparently you are less pleased."

"You killed my father," she hissed. "You deserve torment and death." 

"I killed him because he attacked us," Loki protested. But then gave a wry chuckle. "No, that is not true."

"What then?" 

"It was a … mistake." It was hard to admit to the truth, even when he'd always known it. 

"A mistake? You think that makes it better?" she demanded furiously. "You slaughtered him and five thousand of my people by a _mistake_? You will never get mercy for that, foul creature." 

"No, I expect not. Nor if I was Svartalfen would I want to give it. But I," he hesitated, as if he were saying it relucantly, leaving the crumb on the table for her, "I thought you should know. It was not a deliberate attack." 

She picked it up and nibbled, curious. "What then? How did it happen" 

He told the truth since it should work to his favor. "I took Mjolnir's power and the loose power of the battle but I failed to bind them properly. The power went wild in an instant and I knew every person on that field, of both sides, would die if I did nothing. All I had time to do was to push it away from me. It was a blind move. Desperate."

She said nothing, but since she didn't hit him again, she was mulling it over. 

But because it wouldn't work to seem to try too hard, he added, "But I mourn it not, because he was our enemy, and he was cruel and terrible and he made all his people miserable. And he deserved to die."

"He was my father!"

"I know about fathers I despise, Lady Sigyn. So I understand your conflict, but I know he was cruel to you and your brother." He didn't know that for certain, but he knew Durn had been awful, so it wasn’t much of a guess. Malekith had learned cruelty from somewhere.

She stared at him, shocked and then infuriated, "How dare you!"

Ah, he was right. Now he had another key to get out of this place. He softened his voice as much as he could, "He hurt you, Lady. If you cannot be glad that he is dead, are you not at least relieved he is gone?" 

She hit him again. "Silence. Asgard - so high and mighty, so arrogant and bullying, not knowing how much all of the other Realms hate you."

Loki pondered that for a moment. "Not all, I think. But yes, you are right, Asgard has been insufferable. That much I will grant you."

She was about to strike him again, and then held back, surprised. "You agree?"

"Of course I agree. I have hated Asgard longer than you've been alive. As I told Malekith, a year ago I would have joined him in his vengeance. But… Asgard is changing, Lady Sigyn. Odin Allfather, Thor, me … we are different than we were. And even if that were not true - Thanos comes. Your brother is in league with Thanos the Eternal, and I can tell you, because I know this for fact, Thanos brings only death." He paused to rest and find his breath against the pain of the healing stab wounds, and when she didn't speak, he knew she was at least listening. "Lady Sigyn, Thanos will take Asgard first because it has the power to stop him, but it will not be the last or the only ones to fall."

"No, Malekith says that we will be spared." 

"I was in Thanos' mind. He will spare no one, in the end." He gazed at her, beseeching her understanding and telling her the absolute truth as he understood it. "I know not whether Malekith is blind to that, or does not care, but if Thanos finds a way into Jormungandr, he will take all the powers to himself: the Casket, the tesseract, the Infinity Gauntlet, he may rouse Ymir… We will all die, Lady Sigyn. All of us. Please, you are not Malekith, you share not in his insanity. Whatever I have done to you and yours, this threat is greater than that." 

She turned to consider, and then her chin lifted and she sneered. "You lie. You want me to free you, so you lie. Thanos is our ally, but I thank you for confirming that you fear him. We can work with that." 

Smiling, she turned and walked away.

The chains rattled as he tried reflexively to grab her and make her stop. "Say he does spare you, is that what you want? To be subject to his whim forever? Durn, Malekith, Thanos - is there no end to the madmen you must obey, Sigyn? Is that all your life is or ever will be?"

She hesitated, giving him a brief moment of hope that he had reached her, but then she shut the door, plunging him back into darkness.

* * *

On arrival, Frigga looked around curiously. All she knew of Jotunheim came from others' tales and some of her own curious scrying about the place from whence Loki came. 

It was thickly overcast, lending it a night-time dimness though it was daylight, and it was frigid with a nearly constant icy wind. To one side was a cliff and a view of the great valley of Jotunheim, all ice and stone as far as one could see below. Ahead, stood the old city and the dark ridges of the hills and mountains, all barely distinguishable in the gloom. Fandral scouted ahead, and she followed, relieved to be heading away from that high cliff. 

Frigga pulled her fur cloak more tightly around her shoulders and stepped onto the plain of ice, careful of her footing. But then, curiously, the wind faded. She glanced up and saw that here the clouds had parted, and one could see the stars directly above.

The stars shone in the clear ice beneath her feet that should have been slippery and yet was not. To either side and all around were more fantastically beautiful sprays and delicate structures of ice; some had broken evidencing the battle that had occurred, but enough remained to imagine what it had been. Two towering columns of ice, perfectly clear, like the trunks of crystal trees, had formed at the end, framing the entrance to the city.

It was all heart-breakingly lovely and not the grim shadowy realm that Jotunheim had become. 

It was Loki's work with the Casket. She needed no taste of the aether to tell her that.

 _Yes, my son, this is what you can be. Hold tight to that, dearest_ , she wished him silently, hoping somehow he could hear her. 

Surrounded by the Warriors Three and Sif in an honor guard, they went through the crystal columns toward the fallen city. The snow lay in drifts across rubble of stone and partial walls, a sad distant echo of former greatness. 

It seemed quiet and deserted, but she felt the eyes and saw the movement of deeper shadows to either side. They were not alone. She stopped on top of one stone column base and waited. 

There was movement, and her warriors gathered nearer, hands to weapons. And then one particular shadow detached itself and came closer. "What do you want, Aesir?"

"I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard," she announced boldly. A deep astonished rumble greeted her words, from the giants that gathered in the shadows. 

"Why come here, Queen of Asgard?" demanded the one who had spoken before. 

"For your help," she said. "Malekith the Accursed took my son prisoner. Some of you must have seen it happen; for it happened here."

"Good. One less Aesir prince," the giant sneered. 

"One less Jotunn prince!" she called. Some of them weren't as shocked by that as they should have been. Loki or Malekith had revealed it, then. She heard her guards gasp, but she had no time to explain it to them.

"My son - Loki Odinson of Asgard - is also son of Laufey," she declared. "Raised in Asgard, but son of your king by blood." 

"Even if this were true, what matter to us? He is no prince of ours."

Another one showed himself, sneering, "We saw him. He's no Jotunn - too small, too pale, like one of your kind."

Both giants looked down at her, but Frigga returned their look with pride. 

"You say he is no Jotunn, but he did that." She pointed back the way she'd come: where the clouds which normally shrouded the world had parted, the two ice columns gleamed with starlight like beacons, and beyond that, a lake of ice that seemed made of silver it shone so brightly. "Look on that, and tell me that was not made by one of the blood of your kings. Imagine what more he could do. He could restore this realm to what it was once, before Laufey failed you."

"Do not speak of his failure, Aesir, when you murdered him!" 

Relieved by what this revealed of what they did not know or suspect, she lifted her head to confront him. "Which king stood in the chamber where the other slept, spear in his hand to do murder? Laufey invaded Asgard, to the very chamber where Odin Allfather lay sleeping and defenseless. Be glad he did not blame your people for the foolish actions of your king, although--" she looked around at the ruins, "I suppose he thought there was little left to ruin." 

"Because of him!" 

She returned sharply, "That war was a thousand years past. Think you were the only ones to suffer? I was there, I remember. Yet Asgard and Midgard rebuilt and renewed. But here, nothing. Was the Casket of Ancient Winters the source of Jotnar **pride** as well as an artifact of power? For my king and husband took away with him only the Casket and a baby found in the snow. If truly that was all Jotunheimi had, then rescuing both from the greedy talons of Malekith of Svartalfheim should be an even greater urgency than my plea." She lifted her head and turned to address them all. "If Loki had not come to Asgard, he would not have learned our ways of power. With what I and my people have taught him, Jotunheim could be **greater** than it ever was. But if Malekith kills him, that blood and that power will be lost. All that **could** be will be gone, never to rise again. 

"Instead of creating beauty, the power of the Casket of the Ancient Winters will be taken and used to usher in the great evil of Thanos the Eternal, who has taken Malekith into his service. Once, in the dawn of the Nine Realms, Asgard and Jotunheim marched together against Thanos; Odin and Laufey rode side by side to defeat this evil. And I ask you to march again."

"Who are you to ask us this?" the tallest warrior demanded, as if she would have no answer.

"I am a mother who wishes to save her son, and I am a queen who wishes to save the Nine Realms, and I am a healer who wishes to see this Realm restored. All these will come to pass, if you join us."

"And if we do not?" the other giant asked. 

She almost smiled at that, but it was a grim amusement. Did he think she was threatening him? She had no need to threaten, when the truth was far more devastating. "The Nine Realms will burn, my lords. Jotunheim will not escape the fires of Thanos, or Malekith's army of conquest." 

"You say this, but how do we know it's truth?" one said. "Thanos was defeated and is long gone. We tire of the endless war between Svartalfheim and Asgard; it is not our fight." 

"No, brother. You are wrong," another voice retorted."Malekith murdered four of our warriors. Svartalfheim attacked us. Do we continue to stand by and do nothing?"

A new voice entered the debate. "No, we do not." There was movement off to the side, as another Frost Giant emerged from the shadows. But this one was female - with long black hair in braids and wearing just a mail shirt as a sort of short gown. 

Frigga noticed that the other giants moved aside for her, as the elder female crept out into the light to ask, "What is this you say? The infant… Laufeyson?"

Frigga turned to face her and nodded her respect. "Yes. Odin Allfather found the baby abandoned in one of your temples, and took him to Asgard where we raised him as our own." 

The giantess lowered her head, but her hand went to her chest as if to hold in some violent feeling. "He lives," the giantess whispered. "Thank the gods."

Frigga inhaled a breath. She knew why the other female had asked; even from here, she could sense the truth. All these years she had believed Loki's mother had abandoned him as much as Laufey had, reviling his malformation as weak. Yet here she sensed grief and regret, worn down into constant loss. Frigga hesitated, unsure if she wanted to hear the confirmation aloud -- her heart twisted in jealousy that this stranger had any piece of Loki at all. But that was unfair, when she sensed the regret, for how churlish would it be to deny Loki the chance to know the mother who had birthed him? Did she fear that Loki could not find room in his heart for them both? It was the same absurd fear she had counseled him and Thor against. 

It needed to be Loki's choice. So she asked, already knowing the answer, "The baby was yours?"

The giant's eyes - scarlet but pained - lifted to meet Frigga's and she nodded her head once. "When Laufey saw the child, he felt ashamed and cursed. He thought it a sign of the gods' displeasure with our realm and the reason that we lost the war, and he took the baby from me to leave for the gods. I cursed Laufey that his blood would be his doom. But I was weak, and I defied the king too late. When I went to find the infant, he was gone. I thought the wolves had taken him, and I prayed they would raise him as their own. And … so it was, the great wolf of Asgard stole him." 

"Rescued him," Frigga corrected softly. "Odin Allfather never stole him, for one cannot steal what has been abandoned." 

The giantess nodded her head, and as her voice grew ragged with old pain, there was a moment when Frigga saw the resemblance in her features to Loki's. "There was not a day I did not wish I had fought for him more, saved him…"

Frigga jumped down to the snow and stepped toward her, ignoring the hissed cautions of her guards. "Then help me save him now."

The giant looked at her in surprise. "You care for him? Truly? Though he is not of your blood, though he is Jotunn?" 

Frigga answered simply, "He is my son. I have raised him in my house, in my heart, and I will not let Malekith kill him, if I must tear apart Svartalfheim stone from stone myself." 

"Not alone, my queen," Sif declared.

"Nay, not alone." Volstagg twirled his axe. "We go with you. And we rescue the prince from that bastard."

The Frost Giant who was Loki's birth mother stepped forward, seemingly re-energized by the revelation that her son still lived, all these long years later. "Not alone. We go with you." 

"Skadi," one of the other giants complained, and Skadi backhanded him so hard he stumbled back into the ruins, then she glared at the rest of the giants, scarlet eyes like fire. 

"Laufeyson still lives!" Skadi said loudly to the gathering. "My son still lives. Yes, he is now of two worlds, but is that not what we need? Look around, my brothers and sisters - open your eyes to what this realm has become! Four of ours slain, and we shrank back, like beaten pups too afeared to bare our fangs. Too long have we dwindled into lesser creatures, our realm sunken into shadow. We can be more. There is only one who can bring it back, and he is lost, taken by the malice and madness of Malekith of Svartalfheim. This, we shall not stand." 

She strode forward and held out her hand, palm up. Without hesitation, Frigga put out her own, much smaller hand, atop hers. 

Then Skadi turned and called out in fierce command. "Gather the tribes. Jotunheim goes to war."

* * *


	11. Harvest of Bitter Fruit

* * *

When the door opened again, Loki knew things were about to get worse. The blood spell must have failed. The Casket of Ancient Winters would not be fooled by a blood bond, no matter how elaborate.

The foxfire lanterns flared as Malekith strode in, frustrated and angry. Sigyn trailed behind him, with four armored warrior guards as well. 

"You will tell us how to make it work," Malekith demanded. 

Loki raised his eyebrows. "You could say 'please.'" 

Malekith struck him, snapping his head back and forcing his limbs to the limit of the chains that held him, but the blow just made Loki laugh at him. "You are a petulant child, Malekith."

Malekith grabbed his chin and rested his talons on the brow ridges above Loki's eyes as if he intended to claw them both out. "You will fear us," he hissed.

Loki refused to flinch and stared back. "I exterminated five thousand of your men and Durn himself. You should fear **me**."

He could see that Malekith did. He didn't want to and he wouldn't acknowledge it, but he did. Seeing that fear gave Loki some satisfaction that he held onto as Malekith erupted into fury, snatching a lash from the table. The lash struck Loki's bare skin, stinging fire again and again, nibbling away at his body's strength and digging into his flesh. 

Loki fisted his hands in the bonds, and set himself to endure, clenching his jaw and refusing to let Malekith see more than that. _I will not bend for you, not ever. I may be a monster, but you are a worm. And I will see you dead for this_.

Sigyn averted her eyes and seemed to take no pleasure in the whipping, though she smiled whenever Malekith glanced at her. 

When the bespelled lash finally drew blood and Loki flinched, Malekith stopped and his fingers grabbed Loki's chin in a tight grip. "Now. Tell us how to make it work. Or we do it again."

Loki found his voice hoarse, but managed to smirk at Malekith. "I have lived pain you cannot imagine and fear you cannot dream. I have seen **death**. You are nothing." 

Malekith pushed hard on his chin, forcing his head back. "Bring it," he ordered.

"Brother, what are you doing?" Sigyn asked. 

"He looks thirsty," Malekith taunted. "We think we should give him water." 

Loki tried to fight him, but found the whipping had sapped his strength more than he expected and the guards and Malekith pulled open his mouth and started dumping water from a pitcher into his mouth and on his face. 

It confused him at first - did Malekith think he could drown? It was a bit uncomfortable, but it would take a lot more than a pitcher's worth of water to worry him.

But then he got a taste of the water and realized it wasn't water at all. 

_Don't swallow it, don't swallow it_ … But in the end, he had no choice - they forced it down his throat, even as he gagged and coughed. Then the pitcher was empty, and Malekith hurled it to the far end of the room and stepped back, gloating. 

"Now we see." 

"See what?" Sigyn asked. "You got him wet, so?" 

"Ah, this one is a freak, dear sister. Not only is he Jotunn, something the Aesir hid for a thousand years, but he's defective. Small, weak, and with a faulty digestion. They couldn't hide that," Malekith sneered. "Simple chicken broth is poison."

Loki was feeling fine, though, much to his own surprise. It had been so long since he'd tasted meat, it seemed he had left it behind. Perhaps it had been a problem of his youth… He was fine, he had outlasted the weakness, he had nothing to worry about…

He smirked at Malekith. "Your information is -" 

Then his insides seized up, squeezed unbearably. He tried to keep it to himself, show nothing, but it was impossible. His stomach heaved, trying to empty itself, and Malekith sprang backwards with a giggle, watching Loki with his mad delight. 

The vomiting stopped, leaving him hanging in the chains. Humiliation burned inside, and he clenched a jaw around the urge to stab himself in the heart and end all of it. The pain burned as well, a forged sword straight through his middle, and he wanted to fold up around it but the bonds held him open.

He spat out the taste in Malekith's direction and concentrated on breathing through his teeth, closing his eyes and letting his hair fall in his face to forget there was anyone watching him. 

But eventually he was too boring for Malekith, who laughed. "We'll do this again soon, princeling. We will check on you later." At the door he realized Sigyn wasn't following. "Sister?"

"I want to watch," she said. "It seems… entertaining." 

"Nothing permanent, dear sister," he ordered and laughed again, before snapping the guards outside to leave them alone. 

Loki lifted his head and it was a strain to reach for that taunting tone of voice. He was starting to feel warm, as well, his skin too tight and his blood heated in the grip of sudden fever. "Is it that entertaining? Truly your life must be pathetic…"

"Are you trying to die?" she asked him abruptly. "Why do you taunt us? Your life is in our hands, and you provoke us. It's foolish." 

He shrugged as much as he could, having to bite his lip to hold back as another wave of nausea hit him like Mjolnir right under the ribs. "It is… entertaining." 

She came closer to peer at him in the dim light. He became abruptly aware of his wrongly colored skin and the way she was staring into his eyes as if she saw something strange. 

"Were they really ashamed of you?" she asked abruptly. "Of this face? Is that why they hid it?"

She was good; she sounded sympathetic even while she managed to strike a blow that hurt more than anything Malekith had done. 

But he could show no weakness in this. He forced a laugh. "Of course they were. Who wants a Jotunn foundling in the palace of Asgard?"

"Yet they did," she murmured. "They wanted one. How lucky for you to escape that cold and savage place."

He frowned. Thor had tried to say something like that, but Loki hadn't listened. But it was true; he probably wouldn't have lived so long had he been raised in Jotunheim. The Frost Giants were not farmers and though he often loathed eating, at least he had more variety in Asgard than the lichens and berries that Jotunheim produced.

Though of course his difficulty with animal proteins had nothing to do with why they'd kept the secret of his ancestry. His food problem could not be hidden, but his skin could be.

"They hid it from all. The Allfather called the illusion forth and I held it myself, unknowing." He wanted to laugh, but the twisting in his gut stole his breath. 

"You didn't **know**?" she demanded in incredulity. Somehow that made him feel especially stupid, that he could be another race entirely and yet never know.

But he had known **something**. "I knew there was something wrong with me." His stomach tried to heave out the poison again, and he retched, shivering with a strange heat across his skin. When he caught his breath he added, "I wondered whether I was their blood, but it made no sense to me that they would raise me if I were not. Then… I found out I was something other entirely."

He still didn't understand it, not really. That Frigga had pitied and wanted to keep him, he understood that much. And Odin had wanted to watch him in case he was dangerous, but still, it seemed an elaborate pretense to keep the discarded runt offspring of a despised enemy. 

She turned away but he saw something he thought was sympathy or pity. "At least I - " she started in a murmur, but stopped herself. She turned back and asked. "Will you die of it? You look quite pale."

 _Oh ancestors, I hope so, since I know I have days of this_. "Possibly." 

"Are you lying to me?" she asked, coming close and smiling at him. 

He hoped his smile was less sickly than he felt. "Possibly." After a moment of silence he told her, "So now you have a weapon. I await how you intend to turn it against me."

"No." She shook her head and added in a soft voice, "We are not so different, I think." 

He frowned, thinking he should be able to parse what she meant by that, but he had no idea. Because they were the younger siblings of the heir? She seemed to mean something else. Perhaps when his body wasn't trying to hurl out its insides, he could figure it out. "You are free, and I am not. That seems quite different to me." 

"Give Malekith what he wants and I will free you from these chains, have you put in a cell and not hurt again," she promised. 

He had to chuckle at that. "Ah. I was wondering when we would get to the promises of ease. Next you'll offer me a magazine." Her look of incomprehension was amusing, but his intended laugh turned into a shudder. 

"It is not a ploy," she insisted. "There is no need to suffer."

"Durn would be very disappointed in your lack of will to avenge his death," he chided.

It got the reaction he'd wanted as she struck him across the face and distracted him from the seething spasms inside.

"I have no lack of will," she spat. "You will suffer and then you will die, and my father will be avenged." She headed back for the door, and her shoes made soft clicks on the stone floor.

"You should **thank** me for avenging what you suffered at his hands," Loki called after her. Her step hesitated then she left.

But he found a little smile, because she had neglected to take the light with her. 

_Soon_ , he promised her silently, _I will widen that crack. You are not as cold-hearted as you want to be, Sigyn of Svartalfheim, and you will not stay away_. 

His chains rattled as a spasm shook him suddenly, and he bit his lip as the tremors continued. The pain rose up inside his chest, forcing him to retch again, even though there was nothing left to bring up.

It left him weary and trembling, and his satisfaction from his conversation with Sigyn fled for darker places. 

_Conquer your weakness_ , he reminded himself. _This is of the body, put it away. And wait. Your opportunity will come_.

* * *

Frigga brushed the ice away from the fallen column and seated herself there to wait. She tapped her fingers against her thigh, in her only concession to her impatience. She wanted to go now, not later. But Skadi and the rest of their ruling tribe needed time to gather the army, send out messengers and bring in supplies.

Her warriors kept watch over her - Sif and Fandral stalked the perimeter of the area they'd staked out as Asgardian, while Hogun and Volstagg remained near her, more still and wary.

As the day wore on, Skadi encouraged two Frost Giants close and then unexpectedly shoved them to their knees. Sif followed them in, as Volstagg and Hogun instantly stood in front of Frigga, hands to hilts, ready to draw. 

"Wait," Frigga commanded and looked up at Skadi curiously. "What is this?"

"These two," Skadi kicked one in the ribs, "will not stop fighting. Their tribes have long been in a dispute and they will ruin the attack with their bickering, if nothing stops them. So I had a thought that you, as a neutral party, might hear their issues and settle it."

"Why not you?" Frigga asked.

Skadi gave a snort. "Because I want to clout them both on the head. And you're not doing anything." 

Frigga couldn't help a smile at that. Skadi had a point. She looked at the two Giants before her, who wouldn't look at her or each other without sneering. "Well, I am willing. If they are willing to speak to me." 

"Yes, they are," Skadi growled at them and her red eyes shone with a new fire. "We go to rescue Laufeyson, and I will not have these two getting us all killed because of a stolen deer four hundred years ago." 

"It was a goat," one of them muttered. "They trespassed first." 

"They stole my cousin." 

"She came of her own--"

Sif's sword came between them as the two turned toward each other about to come to blows again. "Stop," she warned them. "The Queen of Asgard will hear you. She will be fair. But by the ancestors, you will be civilized before her, or I will cut your heads off."

Frigga glanced up at Skadi, to check what she thought about Sif drawing a weapon on her people, but Skadi seemed amused. "I think it would improve them." Then she glared down at the two. "You came at the call, that means you're not too stupid to live, so prove yourselves fit to rule your tribes." 

With a nod to Frigga, she stomped away to attend to other business, and Frigga turned her attention back to the two kneeling before her, abashed but still glaring at each other from the corners of their eyes. "Livestock disputes and a love affair… Well, this may take all afternoon, but let me put it this way, Malekith is probably torturing my son right now. Your intransigence appears to be stalling my departure to go to him, so my patience is not infinite today." She glanced at the sky then back to them. "Here is my ruling: at sunset both of you will duel to the death and your tribes will merge with a new leader chosen by me. Unless we resolve this another way."

This time when the two giants looked at each other it was with a new, shared alarm. 

She very nearly smiled at that. "Shall we begin?"

At sunset two grumpy Frost Giants were alive and their tribes were part of the army. 

The other giants gave Frigga a metal goblet in celebration of the ended feud. The goblet was the size of a soup serving tureen, and full of clear liquor. But she sipped it curiously; it was harsh on the throat and cold, but pleasantly warming at the end.

As daylight dimness turned to night-time black, the Frost Giants held a short, but solemn funeral for their fallen warriors. They laid a circle of small black rocks around the four bodies, chanted to their gods, stripped the bodies, and then poured frostfire on them. Frostfire was a devastating weapon of the giants -- it began as a liquid, burned all it touched, and left frost in its wake instead of ashes. It could only be stopped by magic or regular fire, which she saw demonstrated as the giants lit the encircling coal on fire, golden-red flames surrounding the blue and halting their spread. 

When the ceremony seemed complete, Frigga moved to the area Loki had cleared where the termperature was not as cold and heated a stone where it wouldn't melt the ice forms.

She passed the goblet to her companions, offering to Sif last with a gesture to come sit near her. 

Sif glanced toward the jotnar. "I… can hardly believe this is happening. And you managed to bring those two stubborn giants to accord." 

"Often all it needs is patience, wilingness to listen, and perspective," Frigga murmured. "As I offer you. You seem troubled." 

Sif shook her head and lifted the goblet in both hands to drink. "I … would never burden you with my trifling concerns, my queen." 

"Is it about Loki?" Frigga asked, and hid a smile when Sif was surprised that she knew. 

"I… I never… Is it true?" she asked. "That he's one of … them?" 

Frigga let a soft sigh escape and knew that the time had come. She gestured the other three to come nearer. "I shall tell you the tale. At the end of the war, here on Jotunheim, the Jotunn were scattered, their buildings torn down, and the storms were coming. And in that stillness of utter defeat, Odin heard a baby cry. It was a strange sound to him, especially as the sound continued, a wail forlorn and weak. The Jotunn love their children, as we do, and he did not understand why no one was helping the baby. With the thought that the child had been lost during the battle somehow and he would return it to its kind, he searched it out. He climbed the hill above the fallen city," she pointed in its direction, even though it as no longer visible in the dark, "and he found a baby laid upon the altar. He was small, even for one of our kind and tiny for theirs. There was no knowing how long he had been there, but he was starving, and the coming storm would have killed him within the day." 

Volstagg, father of many and generally big-hearted warrior he was, made a sound and his eyes were soft with understanding and sorrow. 

Frigga continued, "The king's heart was moved by pity and he brought the baby to Asgard, wrapped in his banner." She remembered the small fragile body nestled in her arms and his happy little grin, and had to smile at the memory. "And I … when I beheld him, I could not bear the thought of letting him go. We already knew there would be no child after Thor. His strength came at a price for us both," she added more softly, looking off to the distance. "Then this outland child appeared in answer to my prayer. When the Allfather invoked illusion of an Aesir appearance, Loki held it himself, though he was but days old. We knew then, in that tiny body a great power lay."

Volstagg nodded his shaggy head thoughtfully, and took a great draught of the Jotunn brew. "Though Heimdall tried hard to keep everyone at a distance, I know a baby's cry when I hear one. So I -- well, I have long known he was not yours, my queen, though your story was otherwise plausible. I believed he was the king's blood, and you were particularly generous with your affections in accepting him." 

She regarded Volstagg in shock. She had always been grateful for her semi-isolation with baby Thor at the mountain retreat during the war, which had let the deception stand unchallenged. Loki's public digestive problem ironically had helped, as it seemed to fit with the story of her troubled pregnancy and his premature birth. There had been rumors nonetheless, which she had tried to stamp out whenever they arose again. But this was the first she had ever heard Volstagg believed one of the rumors. "You thought Loki was Odin's distaff son?" 

He shrugged. "It seemed the best solution. That was why I muttered about his blood at the ceremony. I meant it as praise, that he was returning to the ways of the king's blood. I knew none of this." He waved a hand around indicating Jotunheim. 

She closed her eyes briefly. _So the secret continues to yield bitter fruit._

"He was never told. He found out by accident on your last visit during that confrontation with them," Frigga murmured. "That was my mistake, keeping the truth from him. He has yet to recover from the blow, and it leaves him vulnerable during this trial."

Sif nodded slowly, watching the distant shadows of the Frost Giants move beyond the faint reach of the starlight above. "I cannot imagine the shock of that revelation falling on me… There was such a strange light in his eyes when he took up Gungnir, I knew he had gone a little mad. I thought it was with power; I never dreamed this. And now …" she glanced at Frigga, frowning in concern, "he calls himself monster. It seems he has given up hope of being more."

"Then we must teach him he is mistaken," Volstagg declared. "The lad sent Thor to Midgard and remained behind. That was an act that shows his worth." 

_Or shows he believes he has none_ , Frigga thought, troubled. _Oh, child, be wary of despair. Find your strength and fight Malekith. Remember our talk, and hold on until we reach you_.


	12. Light on the Horizon

* * *

Malekith returned the next day, to force Loki to take more. "Mutton broth for something new," he chortled delightedly. "You want to stop? Tell us how to control the Casket." 

Loki eyed the pitcher. He still felt ill from the first one, though at least the pain had faded for lingering weakness and nausea. But if more was inevitable, at least he could have some fun on the way to more misery. He groaned pathetically and begged in a hoarse voice, "No, please, no more…" 

Malekith grinned and leaned closer. "How?"

"Well… No, I should never tell you this…" Loki's gaze went behind Malekith to find that Sigyn was now in the doorway watching. Good, that meant an appreciative audience.

Malekith seized his chin tightly. "Tell me. How do we control it?"

"Fine. Wait." Loki delayed, hanging his head and taking shallow, pained breaths. Then he raised his head and looked Malekith in the eye, to explain as condescendingly as he could, "To start, two Jotunn get together, maybe they have a drink or two, and then they go to their special private--" He didn't get a chance to finish before Malekith was hitting him again, but Loki was too amused by his little joke to care. 

He gasped a laugh when Malekith paused. "You are a moron, Malekith. Have you not figured it out yet? There is only one person who can control it: me." 

Malekith sneered back at him. "One? There are many filthy Jotunn brutes. Maybe one of them will be useful…"

"Oh, did I say **any** two Jotunn? I meant to say, one must be the king of Jotunheim or his blood. And since Laufey fell dead at my feet, I'm the last," he snarled back at Malekith with some vicious satisfaction. 

Malekith took a moment to make the simple addition. "You are Laufey's get?"

"My compliments on your fine grasp on the obvious." Behind Malekith, Loki saw Sigyn's lips twitch in an irrepressible smile, though she wiped it away as soon as she realized he was looking at her. 

As expected, Malekith forced him to drink the meat broth but left as soon as Loki collapsed into his chains, body tearing at itself again from the inside.

Again, Sigyn stayed. He lifted his head as she approached, and he wanted to say something mocking, but she spoke first, shaking her head, "I thought Loki Silvertongue was supposed to be able to talk himself out of everything. Yet you provoke Malekith deliberately."

 _Ah, you see the tactic, but not who it is aimed at. Excellent_. His shoulders hurt too much for a shrug, but he lifted his brows. "Amusement. You do the same with him, sometimes, do you not? He is so easy to provoke." 

To his disappointment she ignored the bait, intent on her own path. "Yet in retaliation he hurts you. Poisons you."

Pain surged within, insides twisting sharply, and he choked on the urge to retch again. He managed to say dryly, "I noticed." 

"Then why?" Her jaw set as if he was being particularly stupid. "You know you will end up using the Casket to open the portal for my brother. It is inevitable. I have seen what my brother does, Loki. He gets what he wants, even from one as stubborn as you. Everyone can be broken." 

That was the most amusing thing she'd said so far and he managed a laugh that didn't sound entirely as if he were being strangled. "You fail to understand. Whatever Malekith does to me is nothing compared to what Thanos will do to punish me for my failure to deliver the tesseract to him." He remembered his nightmares of the corpses in the great hall of Asgard and the towers burning. "I would rather enjoy your brother's dubious hospitality for all eternity than be Thanos' slave. Or see Asgard fall under his shadow." He managed a chuckle. "I hate Midgard and Jotunheim most intensely, but not even they deserve **him**."

She shook her head. "You say that now, but eternity is a very long time." 

"True. But I will not have to wait for eternity, will I? This will all be resolved when Thor kills Malekith." He affected surprise. "You thought you were going to win against Asgard? Odin Allfather has the tesseract, you fool, he will crush your army, and Thor will hammer Malekith into the ground."

"But you're our hostage. They will not dare." 

Loki snorted. "I would not wager what Odin Allfather and Thor will not **dare**. Daring is not a quality Thor lacks." 

It felt ironic to use Thor's reputation to his advantage, having hated it for so many years. But at least there was finally a use for Thor having been a violent hothead for centuries. Something Svartalfheim knew well, as one of his most frequent recipients.

Loki watched her carefully, as he laid out the full weight of what foolishness Malekith had undertaken. A little worm of doubt began to gnaw at her. 

She tried to hide it with a disdainful sneer. "Let it be on your head then. You get no sympathy from me, butcher." 

She stalked out and let the door slam behind her. He bit his lip so he wouldn't call after her, to try to get her to stay.

But the cell felt very empty when she wasn't there, and he was left with nothing to distract him from the burning inside and his own worm of doubt. 

Would anyone come to rescue him? Or was he, again, abandoned and alone?

* * *

The temperature dropped so that Frigga put up her fur hood and heated another stone, but the storm that raged on the heights was a gentle dusting of snow in this area where Loki had tampered with the weather, and mild enough that no one needed to seek greater shelter.

First light showed the clouds had thinned, and the sun was visible briefly at the horizon as a brilliant flash of fire. The ice gleamed and scattered rainbows in a shower of color not often seen on this gloomy realm.

Sif watched the shimmering with wide eyes, turning her head with her lips parted, caught by some failure of speech. 

Then the colors were gone as the sun vanished behind the cloud cover again, but it was a hopeful sign.

Frigga was about to ask Sif her thoughts, but a feel of a disturbance in the aether caught her attention. She glanced up, in time to see a high flash of light, as a tiny portal opened above. 

A bird winged down leisurely. It was a large raven, black as pitch with bright yellow eyes, and Frigga smiled to see him, holding up her arm for him to land. "Munin. You bring word from the Allfather?"

The raven's talons grabbed her arm as his weight settled on her. With surprisingly dainty steps, he moved up to her shoulder. He cocked his head and demanded, his cawing voice perfectly understandable, "Nut."

Knowing that she wasn't getting another word from him until he had his treat, she reached into the pouch at her swordbelt. She was carrying shelled hazelnuts, meant for Loki, since she doubted Malekith was feeding him at all, and offered one between her fingers. Munin took it delicately in his beak. While he ate it, Sif and Volstagg gathered nearer to hear the news.

When he finished, he repeated the demand, "Nut."

"Message first," she insisted. "Then nut." Ravens were very clever, could flit between Realms on their own, and often behaved like toddlers to get their way.

Munin's head-bob seemed disappointed, then he fixed one beady eye on her. "War has come to Asgard," the raven said. "Elves come, pale and cruel, dashing themselves against the wall. Kurse leads them."

"Not Malekith himself?" she asked, frowning

"The Accursed One is not in Asgard," Munin confirmed. 

Absently, she offered him another nut, disappointed by the news. She'd hoped Malekith would be leading the army, but as she had feared, he must have stayed with Loki to torture him into using the Casket. Her breath caught in her chest, a painful pressure in her heart, that he was being hurt. This was worse than hearing about his suicide from the Bifrost -- at least then, she'd held to hope that he had found a way of escape, and if he had truly died, she'd consoled herself that he'd not suffered long. But there was no consolation in this certain knowledge.

Munin nudged at her cheek with his head, looking for attention, and she smoothed his soft feathers with her fingers, letting the repeated caress soothe her as well. 

"Freyr will hold the wall," Sif said. "The Allfather has the tesseract. They will not break through." 

She said the words boldly, but her voice held an underlying question. She needed her own reassurance, being here where there was yet no battle, when her homeland was under attack. 

"We will find our own war soon," Frigga said and turned to watch the Frost Giants, as another group arrived, suspicious of their own kind and hostile of the small knot of Aesir. But despite their wariness they walked, one by one, between the ice pillars to stand in the middle of the ice and look up to see a patch of cloudless sky the color of deep water. 

The more she watched the Jotunn and the naked awe in some of their scarlet eyes at the sight of a sky some had never seen before, the more she was sure there would be war. Loki was her son, but to some of them, he had made a miracle.

"Aye, it is not an easy thing to be away," Volstagg nodded and touched the handle of his axe. "But we shall fall upon Malekith like wolves at his own gates."

Fandral asked, drawing near, "And if he threatens Loki in retaliation?"

"He will," Frigga admitted softly. "But there is no promise he could make I would believe, since I know he intends Loki harm. Therefore it's up to us to find and rescue him, or to defeat Malekith so thoroughly he has no choice but surrender and return Loki to us." But those, she knew, were the good outcomes to this quest, and there was another which loomed large in her fears. She turned her gaze to the portal Malekith had left behind as taunt or trap, and her voice quieted but turned sharp, "And should he murder Loki in spite, he shall find a mother's vengeance far more terrible than defeat."

"Malekith is mad, but not a fool, my queen," Volstagg said, patting her other shoulder.

"I hope so." But Malekith was vindictive and hated Loki, and she did not truly believe he would allow Loki to leave his captivity alive. Because he _was_ mad, and he would not care about the consequences to his people if he exacted his vengeance.

Munin nudged her again with his head and interrupted her dark musings. "Nut?" 

The hopeful question made her smile so she had to give it to him and pet him. He was a silly bird sometimes, but wise.

* * *

The next time Malekith came in, Loki fought against the dose, spitting it back out in Malekith's face to watch Malekith spiral into a rage. 

He regretted it though when Malekith had his guards hold him in place and try to dislocate his shoulders. Luckily his inner power was too strong for that, but that didn't stop Malekith from exploding in fury and whipping him again.

At first, it didn't hurt. No worse than a slap. His flesh was tough and bound by the magic of his being, as an immortal's had to be, and he healed. But Malekith was a magic user, too, and his lash was cursed. 

He didn't stop, as flesh weakened and the pain rose. Loki started to wish for the strike itself, as the brief shock of the blow distracted him from the sharper pain of the touch of air on his raw skin. Sagging in the chains, his body stayed in that room, while his mind fell into a haze, disconnecting itself. His awareness drifted, lost in a vision of ice that burned and fire that felt cold.

Until sharp words snapped his awareness back into his body. "Brother, stop!" 

For one confusing moment, he wanted to protest to Thor that he wasn't doing anything.

With difficulty, he raised his head and forced his eyes open, to see Sigyn had grabbed the whip. "Malekith, you don't want him dead."

"We want him to suffer." 

"He is suffering, brother. Take a moment and admire your handiwork."

Loki let his head fall again, to present the picture of abject weakness, hoping Malekith would stop. Just for a little while. Malekith's idea of admiring his handiwork involved raking his talons down Loki's bare back. Jerking in reflex to escape, Loki yanked at the chains and closed his eyes, trying to be somewhere else.

Malekith grabbed his chin and raised his head again. "The pain ends when you open the portal." 

Loki's eyes opened. It took a moment to find his breath and his voice, panting through his teeth. "The Nine Realms … are under my … protection."

Strange. Saying that, he felt stronger. 

"Your protection?" Malekith sneered and backhanded him across the face. "You can't even protect _yourself_ , Frost Midget. The unwanted abandoned freak?"

That hurt somewhere deep inside, a knife to an already damaged heart, until he heard - as clearly as if she was next to him - Frigga's tear-filled, desperate voice trying to call him back as the pain had tried to drag him into Thanos' shadow: " _I wanted you. Never forget, little one, you were wanted_." 

Wanted. Malekith's insults were lies. 

"Mine. My protection." Loki got his feet under him again and straightened, gritting his teeth to force his muscles to work, despite the raw, bloody mess of his skin and the vicious squeezing pain within. "I am Loki of Asgard, and I will never open a portal to Thanos. Never."

Malekith hesitated then forced a grin. "So brave. So futile. When we thought this flesh was Aesir, we thought it would take longer, but you weaken, Frost Midget. Soon we will have you screaming. And you will beg us to open the portal to make an end."

Loki remembered a glass chamber his captor had thought so secure, not knowing his captive could walk out whenever he chose, and he sneered, "I have nevere begged anyone for anything, and I'm not starting with _you._ You are nothing to me-- a mad little boy with half the strength of his father."

Malekith lifted a hand to hit him again, then stopped. "Provoking us to kill you, freak? We won't fall for it. You heal, and tomorrow we start again. Sigyn, come."

They left him to shiver alone in the dark, poison still in his veins, as his skin healed slowly from the damage. 

Unexpectedly, he heard a step outside and the door opened. The lantern on the wall flared to life, and he saw Sigyn had returned, alone. 

An unreasonable flare sprang to life within him, hoping that she had come to free him. But she was carrying a cup, not a key, and he let his head droop again. More games, then. He was caught between waves of chill and heat already and tried to brace himself for more again.

She walked with soft, quick step before him. "It's only water," she murmured. "I promise." 

Lifting his head, he let her hold the cup to his lips, figuring if it was a lie, it didn't matter. But it turned out to be water.

The lack of poison renewed his strength. "Such friendliness," he mocked after a single sip. "Are we friends now? Should I agree to open the portal because you're so kind?"

She snatched the cup away and stared at him incredulously, before giving a laugh. "You don't know how to stop, do you? Even when it's in your best interest to be polite to the only person helping you at all?"

That made him want to smile. _But it'll be all the sweeter if I make you work for it_. Instead he said snidely, "You are not the first to try to use kindness against me." 

She threw the water on the floor, splashing his bare feet. "Is that more what you expected?"

"More honest."

"And **you** are all about honesty?" she mocked.

"I tell the truth, but few want to hear it." Which was, of course, itself a lie, but it always sounded good when he said it. But it was true that he told the truth and disguised it as a lie as often as the opposite. All a part of the game. But here his wits and his words were his only defense and only weapons, and he had to wield them carefully, and ignore the physical as much as he could. 

"So tell me the truth," she requested, "This sensitivity to meat. Will it kill you?"

He decided he would tell her the truth; there were advantages to claiming yes or no, but the lack of surety seemed better. "My mother learned of it when I was an infant, and always kept my exposure low. I have not consumed any for centuries and never so much. It is a unique flaw, unknown in any history I have seen." He thought about it, realizing he had looked in the wrong place and feeling briefly irritated at Frigga, who had let him waste a summer searching Asgardian records; perhaps she had hoped he would find an Aesir with the same affliction, since it was unlikely that any Jotunn babies had lived long enough to reach Asgardian records.

Perhaps he should simply accept that he was different from anything else in the universe. Nothing like him had existed before, and nothing like him would exist afterward. Perhaps Odin had always been right to fear him. Such a singular creature must have a singular destiny.

Sigyn said, "So it might kill you." 

He nodded once, not particularly disturbed by the idea. "It might. Eventually." 

Her face didn't give away whether that was useful information to her, or not. He had made it clear enough that dying held no fear for him, so they couldn't hold that over his head in threat, but if he could die of it, then Malekith risked the Casket slipping through his fingers. 

"I know you await something. But Kurse has Asgard under siege; they cannot come. Even if they could, no one will find you here. So what do you wait for?" she demanded.

He dared not react to that news that Kurse had besieged Asgard and dug his fingernails into his palms to keep control. It was no more than he had suspected, knowing Odin would lack the will to use the tesseract and wipe them out. Loki smirked tiredly. "I await my hand in Malekith's chest as I pull out his heart." 

She froze, eyes searching his face. "You mean that," she said slowly. "You mean to kill him."

Which he did. But the honesty served a different purpose this time. "Did you think all this-" he rattled the chains, drawing her attention to them and the dried blood on his skin, "-would earn no retribution? Nay, lady Sigyn, I am sorry for your sake, but every pain, every humiliation, I will repay upon him." 

"He avenges our father's death!" 

"No, he wants to serve his _master_ ," Loki reminded her, to set the hook. "He cares nothing for vengeance, only to force me to open the portal for Thanos. And Thanos cares nothing about Durn or Svartalfheim, even less than Malekith does. Tell me, would you like to free your people of his madness?" Loki asked. "I will kill him for you, and you can be queen." 

Her eyes widened in surprise at his sudden offer, and she smacked him across the face. "How dare you say I could ever betray my brother!" 

"Oh, my mistake. I thought you cared about your people."

She glared at him and folded her arms. "I will not play your game."

He hid a smile. She already was playing; she just didn't know it. "Someone should. Because he's going to get you all killed."

"You are a **liar** ," she spat at him. "You're trying to turn me against him and it will not work. I am Svartalfen, and my brother is the king. And I would never betray him." 

She turned on her heel and stalked out, slamming the heavy door behind her. 

Despite the vicious clawing of his insides, Loki found a chuckle. 

"You should be careful making such oaths. The fates enjoy forcing you to break them."

* * *

tbc...


	13. Agents of Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 13 for Friday the 13th. Seems appropriate when there's a lot of ... bad luck in this chapter. Let me know what you think, as always. :)

* * *

The gathering of the tribes was impressive, and while they might be gathering for different reasons - some for revenge for the murders, some just for the fight of it - Frigga felt proud of Loki for those who came to see what he had done with the Casket and fought in hope of what he could do to restore Jotunheim.

The thought occurred to Hogun as well, while they were watching the most recent group to stand at the edge of the ice and stare in amazement. He murmured to her, "You think he will give them what they want?"

She hesitated and made sure there was no one near enough to hear their discussion. "A sorceror king to lead them back to glory? Perhaps. It will appeal to him to have a role not in Thor's shadow." She glanced at Hogun and read the doubt subtly on his face. "You disagree?"

"He would see them all burn." 

Which was true. He would, and he had. But that would not last forever. "When they help rescue him and his blood-mother comes for him, I think that will help. But … we will see. The Nine Realms may look very different when Thanos is defeated." It had come clear to her that Loki and Thanos were both agents of chaos -- their mere existence tangled the threads of orderly existence. Now that they were set in opposition to each other, war and change were inevitable. 

Her eyes turned to the sky, even though Asgard was not a place one could see with the eyes from here. Her home was going to have to change, and it changed slowly and unwillingly, but Loki's secret was coming into the open. She and Odin would have to deal with it, hopefully with less painful fallout for Loki than he feared.

Skadi's heavy footfall pulled Frigga's thoughts away from future speculations. "We are prepared."

Hogun cast a look back at the gathered giants. "That is… two hundred? That is all?"

"Of those near enough to hear the call and come soon," Skadi said, and sounded less pleased about it than Hogun. 

"A formidable force," Frigga reassured them both. "Not since the great war have the jotnar stirred in such numbers. Malekith will be surprised."

Yet Hogun was right, as well. Two hundred was fewer than she had hoped. If Malekith had, in fact, taken the bulk of Svartalfheim's army to Asgard, it should be enough. It would have to be.

"A few more may join when we go," Skadi said, "They refuse to commit until they know it will happen. But the rest?" She snorted dismissively. "Cowards, the lot of them."

"Then we are better without them." Frigga rose from the stone where she had been waiting. "If your people are ready, then it is my turn." 

Her warriors gathered to her, as she headed across the ice to the drifts of snow and stone on the other side, nearer to the great high cliff that dropped to the Jotunheim lowlands.

She had found the area alive with energy and had unraveled Loki's shadowpath gate long since. It touched Jormungandr and was a weakness they could all ill afford with Thanos lurking. But there were two portals as well: Loki's to Midgard in the center of the ice, which had been unmade probably by Malekith himself, and a second to Svartalfheim, left behind as a taunt or perhaps a trap.

Frigga hadn't touched it at first, wary of warning Malekith of the coming attack, but then had tested it to be sure it ended in Svartalfheim. 

She unsheathed her sword to draw some of the enchanted power from it. Holding the sword upright in both hands before her, she looked past it and into the glowing mass in the aether. Though it was turbulent and chaotic, tinged with the dark foulness of Thanos, there was a green shimmer as an echo of the powers Loki had wielded nearby. She smiled to feel it and incorporated it to strengthen the portal and connect it more deeply to Jotunheim.

Shifting the destination would clear it of traps. This was much like re-weaving a tapestry - she had to unpick part of the design Malekith had made and change the picture as well as widen its borders. It was a skill she had not had cause to use in some time, but she found the words and the power returned to her as easily as choosing thread at the loom.

The portal grew in strength and physical dimension, so that two Jotunn could walk abreast beneath. At the center, it opened; at first a tiny hole of brilliant light, but as it widened, it formed an image of the other side, as if it was truly a door that had opened. 

Svartalfheim had grey skies of high overcast, and a dull light shone on the wide dry grass plain not far from their capital that stretched out toward distant mountains.

She let out a breath and lowered her sword wearily. Volstagg was there, to offer his shoulder for her to hold onto and she tried to smile at him. "It is done."

Sif and Fandral nodded and drew their swords. "We will scout," Sif declared and the instant she and Fandral received a nod, they jumped through. Visible through the portal, they turned, ready for any trap or ambush or even unwary farmer, both circled in turns out of sight scouting beyond the visual range of the portal. They spoke together, their words unheard, then Fandral turned back to the portal and beckoned that the way was clear.

Frigga and Volstagg, with Hogun standing behind her, moved aside and she lifted her head to address Skadi. "It is ready. You may begin sending them through." 

Skadi gave the order and it was shouted down the line. Frost Giants picked up weapons, shields, and supplies, and headed for the portal. They were not the most disciplined group, some shoving their way to a place, but the narrowness of the portal forced them to line up, and soon there was an impressively long line of Frost Giants across the snow and ice, reaching back toward the city. Others lingered in the ruins, those who had refused, and a few of them picked up their weapons and joined the end of the line. Others faced the taunts of their compatriots and stayed behind. 

Frigga watched them pass through, wishing she could have made the portal bigger - it was a slow process at a time when they needed haste. 

Skadi stayed with Frigga, herding her people through as quickly as possible. As they waited for the line to pass through, Skadi looked at Munin, sitting on her shoulder. "Your bird? Is it your pet?"

Munin gave her a bright-eyed stare and said in an uncanny approximation of Loki at his most disdainful, "I am Munin of Asgard. Prince of Ravens, Keeper of the Allfather's Secrets, and Lord of Hazelnuts." 

Frigga shot a look at him at the last. "No," Frigga said sternly. "These are for Loki, not Munin of the Rotund Belly, prince of birds too fat to fly."

Munin's head tilt was offended, and with a loud, wordless caw right in her ear that made her wince, he launched himself from her shoulder and flew into portal. 

"It speaks?" Skadi asked in astonishment after he had gone. "Truly you Aesir are strange creatures." Shaking her head, she went to break up another shoving match.

Frigga pitched her voice for only Volstagg to hear. "The Svartalfen are far more disciplined than this lot. I fear for them." 

"They are fierce fighters when roused," he reassured her and added ruefully, "As I was reminded only last year. They pressed us to the edge of the cliff and might have killed us all, but for the Allfather's timely intervention."

"Rarely have I seen him in such a fury." And rarely had one so minor event caused such a cascade of misfortune, leading them directly to this very place and this situation. Yet perhaps it would be all to the best in the end - Asgard and Jotunheim were allies for the first time in milennia, Midgard was much stronger now and had woken to the dangers beyond Earth, and Svartalfheim would weaken from this two-front war.

To make it truly better, they would need to win, save Loki, and keep Thanos out of the Nine Realms. She wrapped her fingers around her sword-hilt, in silent oath to herself that she would make it happen. 

By the time she, Volstagg, Hogun, and Skadi made it through the portal, the first battle had already been fought and won. 

Sif was cleaning her blade, as she and Fandral reported to Frigga. "There was a patrol. Uncertain whether they were sent or merely stumbled upon us." 

Fandral added, "Malekith knows now, if he did not before. I saw two enemy runners head east toward the hall."

She wanted to swear at that - Malekith would close the gate. 

"We have lost our surprise," Skadi declared and hurled her axe at the ground, very nearly into the feet of one of her people. "Curse Malekith and all the rats in their tunnels!"

Jorg, leader of another of the tribes, growled, "They will come forth to bite us." He glowered at Frigga and Volstagg in particular, and she was sure he had fought in the last war. But he had also been one of those to stand in the ice and look upward, his expression for a moment stricken with grief as if he remembered what Jotunheim had once been. "We must leave them no fortifications. Leave nothing standing and no one alive within five hundred paces of our position." 

This part of Svartalfheim was a craggy land with deep river canyons and chasms cut across flat plateau between two mountain ranges. The plain where they stood was grazing and farmland, and Frigga watched, feeling a little sadness, as the Frost Giants methodically tore down every stone house, every tree, and as many of the low stone fences as they could with their giant hammers. They found few people, who had, it seemed, had enough foresight to escape to the fortress. 

The fortress was not visible, though everyone knew where it was because the nearby road led directly to it. The Halls of Svartalfheim were underground, a vast labyrinth cut into the towering walls of the biggest chasm, accessible by a wide road that between guard towers of a foregate, a descent along the canyon walls, and an inner gate of stone.

Munin returned to her, to report the inner gate was shut, the guard towers were manned, but other than that, no one stirred on the entire plateau.

So it was without opposition that the army moved closer to the fortress - not so near they were within direct striking distance, but enough.

She sent Munin home to report to Odin that her army had put Svartalfheim under siege, much as Svartalfheim had done to Asgard, so that he would know not to let Kurse leave. 

She had not wanted a siege. She had especially not wanted the door to be shut so tightly not even a mouse could sneak in. 

As the sunset cast reddish light on the blue skin of the Frost Giants and made their eyes glow like fire, they began building their own walls with the tumbled remnants. 

And meanwhile, she sat beneath her pavilion and ate her camp rations, and waited. Malekith was here, somewhere, with Loki.

She lit a candle and looked into it, casting her mind forth to see if she could find them. The ash-and-death taste of Thanos lay deeply across the aether, a foul shadow that strengthened as the day turned to night. 

But of Loki, she found no sign. Not that day, nor the next.

* * *

When Thor found himself gripping Mjolnir again, wanting to hurl it straight at Stark's wide windows, he set it on the floor and walked away, clenching his jaw. 

"Drink?" Stark offered. 

He accepted with an absent nod of his head, staring out at the sky. So far, he had endured several meetings, saying the same things again and again about Loki, about Thanos, about what was going on in the outer Realms. Most of it, the mortals did not believe. The doubt was frustrating, but ultimately none of it meant anything except that time was passing and he'd had no word from Asgard.

He had spoken to Jane once by Stark's telephone; it was an awkward conversation, not only because the telephone felt very fragile and small in his hand. He had admitted he had thought of her, but what he needed to know was if she had finished her device to contact Asgard, which she had not. He could hear the disappointment in her voice and knew from how quickly she left the connection that he had managed it poorly, but there was little he could do, expecting to leave soon. 

And yet, despite standing on Stark's deck and bellowing to Heimdall frequently, he still was no closer to leaving.

"Maybe he's just… busy?" Tony ventured, handing him the ale. "Rescuing Loki?"

"Perhaps. I hope so, but I fear attack is more likely. But not knowing …"

"Nah. If you knew, you'd be even more upset you're stuck here," Stark said.

That could be true, but Thor did not think so. "I do not understand why they have not brought me home." 

"Well, take it easy. My house is your house, make yourself at home, try not to break stuff, and maybe in the meantime you can try to remember more about Thanos, other than he's strong and likes to hurt and kill things." 

"I have said all I know," Thor protested wearily.

"Except for how we stop him if he comes here." 

Thor shook his head once. "Midgard is more advanced now, but your battle will be hard-fought against Svartalfheim, far more so than the Chitauri, for they are intelligent and magic-users. Thanos himself will cut through your army like a fell wind, gathering slaves to his will as he passes." 

Tony snorted. " _Magic_. It's only science we don't understand yet. Bruce and I were figuring out the scepter fine before it all went to hell. I only need some more examples and I can learn it."

That let Thor smile for the first time. "Have you several hundred years to devote to the study?"

"It won't take me that long," Tony declared with a bold arrogance that made Thor's smile widen. He drank the ale and wandered to examine the artifacts by the wall that were new since the attack on New York. 

Tony went back to the bar to fetch his own drink, and a little later, there was a tapping on the glass door. "Huh, that's a big bird," Stark muttered. 

Thor didn't pay much attention at first, as the taps repeated, thinking it was one of the multitudes of pigeons that enjoyed roosting at Stark Tower. 

Then the computer interface declared, " _Sir, there appears to be a large raven seeking entrance. Should I open the door_?"

"No!" Stark exclaimed. "Of course not, I don't need birds inside! Why would you even ask that, JARVIS?" 

At the mention of a raven, Thor whirled around to see Munin, flapping his great wings and tapping on the glass with his beak, then circling back around to do it again. "Open the way! It is news from Asgard!" 

" _Because in the stories, Odin of Asgard has two ravens, sir_ ," JARVIS answered drily, sounding a bit smug to Thor's ears, as Thor strode excitedly to the glass door. 

The moment the door slid aside, Munin flew inside, circled once and landed on the top of the bar without touching any of the glassware. 

"Munin, what news?" Thor demanded. 

Munin preened one wing and then looked at him. "Nut?" As if that was the only word he knew.

Thor took steps nearer to him, glaring. "Munin, you tell me at once! Why has Father not brought me home? What has happened to Loki?" 

Munin was not impressed with his demands, simply gave him a beady yellow, infuriating stare and repeated, "Nut."

Growling, Thor circled to the inside of the bar to grab a glass jar of nuts from a lower shelf, wrenched off the lid, and slammed it down on the counter in front of the bird. Both glass and wood beneath trembled, but did not break. "Now, _speak._ "

"Um, Thor?" Stark asked hesitantly, and in Thor's quick glance, Stark was looking at him as if he'd lost his mind. "It's a bird. I know ravens are smart, and obviously he can say a word, which is cute, but shouldn't you just take the message off his leg or however he's carrying it, instead of yelling at him to talk to you?" 

"He will give me the Allfather's message, now," Thor demanded of Munin, who was swallowing peanuts like a hatchling. 

Munin ate one more, as if to prove he was not subject to Thor's commands - he reminded Thor painfully of Loki in that moment with his prideful defiance - and then finally talked. "The Allfather speaks to his son that Asgard stands under siege. Pale elves are come with war."

It was not entirely a surprise, but still Thor shut his eyes, wishing desperately he could teleport home.

"It _talks_?" Tony asked, sounding shocked. "Like, really talks?"

Munin shifted his head to look at Tony and declared proudly, "I am Munin, Prince of Ravens, Keeper of the Allfather's secrets, and…" he hesitated, glanced at the container of nuts, then added, "Chief Messenger of the King of the Nine Realms." 

"How does it talk?" Stark demanded. "How is it even making those sounds?"

"How do you?" Munin retorted, and sounded exactly like Loki when he muttered in disgust, " _Mortals_."

He turned to present his tail feathers to Stark, who laughed. "Pissy little thing, isn't he?"

Munin turned a baleful yellow eye on him, but Thor was tired of the irrelevancies. "Munin. Tell me of Loki. Is he safe?"

Munin didn't look at him immediately and Thor knew. "Safe? No. Held in the heart of Svartalfheim, not safe. But the queen seeks him there with the giants."

"My _mother_ is in the field? With Frost Giants?" Thor asked incredulously. He would say it was some fantastic untrue story, except Munin would never lie about such a thing. "How did Father ever allow this?"

Munin cawed a laugh. "How could he refuse? Whence came the willfulness and tricks of the prince of mischief but from her?"

Thor had to admit that was true. It was not something he thought of often, since most of his life she had been the gracious, wise queen, but he had heard some stories from Volstagg, especially when in his cups, about the queen's younger days. She had taught Loki magic despite Odin's disapproval - small tricks when he'd been little to entertain him, when he'd been too ill to do much else, and greater skills later, until he had buried his head in more ancient and dangerous lore. Plus she had encouraged his youthful pranks with her indulgent delight. 

But still whether or not the queen was capable was not the point. "Why are they not bringing me to help?" he demanded. 

"Midgard is weak," Munin said. 

Stark interrupted, "Hey! We're tougher than you think! What does a _bird_ know anyway!"

The raven ignored him. "The Allfather believes if Thanos succeeds in his design, he will strike here." 

By 'design' he meant Thanos taking hold of Loki and the Casket. "Malekith will never break him, Munin. I cannot believe that!"

Munin plucked another nut from the jar and gulped it down. "The king is not so certain. But it is for the queen and her allies to find him, not you. You have your duty here." 

Frustrated, Thor turned on his heel and went to window to glower up at the sky, folding his arms so he wouldn't call Mjolnir and start laying waste to the room. 

"She sounds pretty fierce," Tony said, coming up behind him. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Queen Frigga has not fought in battle since before I was born," Thor said, not turning to look at him. "I cannot understand what possesses Father to allow this."

Behind him Munin said, "The lioness will not bow to the wolf, when her cubs are in peril." 

"And if the lioness falls?" Thor demanded furiously. "That will break him more than anything Malekith could ever do!" 

Thor woud be stricken if she died, but right now, all he could imagine was Loki's reaction. Grief would shatter his heart to madness, and Thor feared Loki would fall to violence and rage worse than Midgard with the foundation of his soul slain. Thor would lose them both by losing her, and he did not think he could endure it.

"She is not alone," Munin said. "The Warriors Three and Lady Sif went as her guards. And the Frost Giants heed her words. They stand in siege of Malekith's halls but soon will crack its shell and eat its meat." 

That was a little reassuring, that at least she was not alone. All of those warriors would give their lives before any harm touched her. "You could not have said that at the start?" 

"There, see?" Tony slapped his shoulder. "Even the bird says everything will be fine. She'll rescue your black sheep brother, keep the supervillain out of our dimension, and your dad will send the evil elves home." He paused and muttered, meaning to be heard, "My god, when did my life get so screwed up that 'evil elves' are a thing?"

His disgruntled tone coaxed a smile from Thor and he inhaled a deep breath, trying to set aside his anxiety. He would have to trust to the wisdom of his parents and hold onto hope.

When he turned back, he saw that Munin had gobbled half the nuts in the jar, and had settled onto the surface of the bar as if he was too heavy for his legs to hold him up. "Greedy beast! What if Father needs you?"

"There is another," Munin said and turned his neck to arrange his feathers before sleep.

"You are the messenger." Thor slammed the lid back on and thrust it at Stark. "Put this where foolish ravens cannot reach it."

Stark took the jar as if he had no idea what to do with it. "Okay. Magic talking ravens who stuff themselves like it's Thanksgiving. Evil elves, Norse gods. Next it'll probably be unicorns or flying monkeys or some other damn thing," Stark grumbled in disgust as he headed for the door. "Whatever happened to science? I'm going to go work on something. Something **science**. In the lab. With no magic." He waved the nut jar vaguely in Thor's direction in farewell. He was still going on about inventing something when the lift doors shut behind him, leaving Thor with Munin. 

"Will it be well, Munin?" he asked softly, stroking the raven's soft feathers gently. 

Munin fixed him with a yellow eye. "The queen arouses from her slumber to find the lioness again. The great wolf of Asgard's vision clouds with doubt, but it will clear. The lost prince fears he is a wolf with no pack, but when he understands he is a lion, he will unsheathe his claws and tear the throats of his enemies."

Which sounded comforting, but Thor noticed there was one missing from Munin's insight. "And me?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. 

Munin rubbed his head on Thor's finger. "You are their strength, Odinson. In this storm, it is to the lord of thunder they must hold fast." 

"But I'm with them not."

"Soon."

"Not soon enough." 

"How would it be otherwise? But not all battles are yours to fight. You must wait." Munin tucked his head down and murmured sleepily but with great satisfaction, as if already dreaming, "Nut..."

* * *

Loki's time sense was not completely accurate in the darkness; he'd lost awareness twice for an indeterminate period, during the worst of the fever when his mind had slipped him back into his fall from the Bifrost. 

But as the sickness passed, he knew it had been at least two days since anyone had visited. He presumed that meant Malekith was busy, probably with the war. Hopefully Thor was pounding Kurse into paste, but something was happening to draw Malekith away, and that was favorable to Loki, no matter what it was. He was disappointed Sigyn didn't visit, but he knew his words would have to percolate within her. Absent some great passion, treachery was a slow process. He had planted the seed, which might not grow or flower at all.

As his mind cleared and his body healed. He could not depend on Sigyn to turn on her brother, and it would be best to be able to free himself anyway. So he recalled the various unmaking spells and began testing them very carefully against the tug of the collar. Most were too powerful and choked him, but he remembered Frigga's comment about coming at it with guile, and that proved to be the answer. Malekith wasn't as clever as he thought he was and he had left a tiny loophole in the detection ward. It did not detect small amounts of potential energy, so Loki fed tiny shards into the collar. It was paintstaking delicate work, weaseling around the suppression of the collar itself, as if he had to snag a drop of water with the tip of a knife and let the droplet fall between a narrow crack to a tiny pebble below. But Loki had nothing else to occupy his time and he could be exceedingly patient when he needed to be. When there was enough energy stashed in it, he would trigger a change to dark energy, it would break the collar, and he would escape this rat hole. As long as he didn't blow his head off.

He heard Malekith's voice before the door opened, and he seemed angry about something. Hopefully it was something to Loki's advantage, but for now, he expected Malekith to take his rage out on his prisoner. Loki forced himself to relax with a deep breath and closed his eyes as if he were dozing. He would not give Malekith the satisfaction of seeing any disturbance at all.

Malekith stepped within and the door closed behind him, oddly without any companions. He moved across the stone floor, near Loki, before speaking. "You seem too comfortable, pet. I shall have to change that."

The tone. The wording. It was all wrong for Malekith.

Loki's eyes shot open and he jerked backward, away from Malekith, rattling his chains as his heart took a sudden leap for escape.

Malekith grinned. But it was Malekith in body only. His eyes turned black as pit vipers, swallowed up by darkness and backed by a corpselight glow, like a candle in a dead cave. 

Thanos.

* * *

tbc...


	14. Visitors in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmm, given the lack of horror and dismayed responses after the last chapter, I think y'all are not taking Thanos seriously enough... You might want to go find something fluffy to snuggle - this is where it gets rough.

* * *

Thanos circled his prisoner slowly, while Loki tried to keep him in view as much as possible. Not that it mattered truly, since there was nothing Loki could do, but he pretended to himself that it would be better to see something coming. But there was no use pretending he was not afraid; for the first time, since this had started, he feared for himself, for the Nine Realms, for everything. 

Loki whispered, "Malekith, what did you do, you fool?" 

Unexpectedly Thanos answered, "Malekith's panicked cry for help to me had some unfortunate consequences to him. His efforts here are pathetic and slow." He dug one fingernail claw into the back of Loki's neck, pushing Loki forward against the chains until he could go no further, as the claw then ripped slowly downward. Loki shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. Thanos felt stronger than Malekith, as if an echo of that massively strong physical form that Loki could barely remember consciously but haunted his dreams was inside Malekith, too. When he stopped, there was a stripe of bloody fire down Loki's spine. "I know how to encourage you properly." Malekith's hand seized Loki by the throat and he leaned in. "Open the portal, toy. You know what I can do to you."

Loki had to bite his lower lip to keep it from trembling, but collected enough breath to answer, "Your astral form may possess Malekith, but you are not here in full strength. I will never open the portal to let in the rest of you," he snarled in defiance. "Never."

"You fear me. Your fear makes you weak." Thanos dragged his nail down the front of Loki's chest, flesh parting for it as he smiled to see the blood. "I will make you into my pet, eager to suffer because it pleases me." 

He brushed a hand over Loki's head in a mockery of caressing his hair, forcing his head back, more and more, until his back arched and the metal cuffs bit into his wrists. "Please me, toy. Suffer." 

Thanos let go and whipped around, foot extended, straight into Loki's knee. There was a horrific snapping sound, like wood cracking, and Loki cried out at the sudden agony that shot up through his leg. Then, though he tried to avoid it, Thanos snapped the other one as well and the second scream was louder still.

The agony tore through him as his knes bent the wrong way. Shuddering, he gasped unsteadily, short breathless moans, grabbing for his control but it kept slipping away. Not only did it hurt, a lot, but it shouldn't have happened at all. He should be stronger than this, his body tougher… Yet Thanos, possessing Malekith, had broken his bones as if he was just a child again. He was weakening; the power that made him invulnerable was fading. Suddenly terror was far stronger in his body than pain. 

Thanos laughed and leaned near to drink in Loki's uncontrolled reactions, inhaling his fear like something intoxicating and pleasurable. "Mm, this body seems strong enough. Stronger than you." He seized Loki's chin. "Pet, be defiant. Tell me you will resist forever and ever, even when we both know you will end up on your knees, begging to serve me."

Loki could barely scrape his voice together but he did to whisper hoarsely, "No." 

"This is the body, next I break your mind," Thanos warned. He paused as if to give Loki the chance to be defiant, or to break and give him what he wanted, but when Loki said nothing, Thanos gave a little smile. "Shall I let you dread what comes, toy? Let this agony fry your body until you give me whatever I want if I make it stop?" 

Thanos walked to the door, leaving Loki in the room alone. He hung from the chains, unable to put weight on his feet. Even the brush of them on the floor sent shockwaves of pain through him.

He tried to think or to feed the energy to the collar and break it, but his mind kept spinning in useless gibbering circles. Thanos was here, had possessed Malekith. Thanos had broken his bones, something not even the green monstrosity had managed. He was weak; his immortality and invulnerability were fading. 

_Don't give him what he wants. You can't. The Nine Realms will be destroyed. You are their protector, you must hold on_.

But there was no holding on against that pain. Consciousness fled, trying to escape, only to land in memories that were little better than the present, except that they would end.

Memories of falling. Of fear. Of pain. 

_He was on the floor of the eastern hall, on his back, his every bone felt shattered. It hurt so badly, hurt so much… He could barely breathe and so his voice was a whisper: "Thor? Are you… there?_ " 

_He couldn't turn his head; something was wrong in his neck. He could move only his left hand, but he found nothing to grasp but the cold tiles of the floor. "Thor?" he whispered again._

_From far away, he heard Thor's laughter, echoed by his friends' and the clink of cups and loud toasts. "To Freyr, who can make the birds fly!"_

_Instead of trying to speak again, Loki gathered his power and slowly, like stacking bricks together, he built the illusion of himself standing and tried to beckon Thor - someone - to help. But the illusion crumbled away when he had no strength to hold it. No one seemed to notice above the carousing._

" _To the feast hall!_ " 

" _Thor?" Loki tried to call after him, but the sounds diminished away as the warriors all pelted from the practice hall, the sound of their laughter extra knives in his pain_. 

" _Father? Mother?" he tried, even fainter, hoping they could hear. "Amma?_ "

 _But no one came. No one cared. He was alone_. 

Loki started awake, out of his hazy semi-consciousness. It took a moment to remember where he was, but he wished he hadn't roused at all as an unwary movement made everything below his hips seem on fire. There was also a strange sound echoing in his ears, like a gasping dog's whimper. It was highly annoying and he wished it would stop so at least he could have silence. It was not until he shuddered that he knew the sound was coming from his own throat, and even then it was hard to stop. But he needed to, since what had roused him was the door opening. 

Someone gasped loudly and footsteps made hasty taps on the stone floor toward him.

"What has he done?" Sigyn whispered in horror as he lifted his head. That small motion sent vibrations through his chains and back down into his bones, the shattered ends sparking against each other, and he bit his lip hard. "No. This is - Malekith should not have done this. How is this even possible?" She shook her head, impatient with herself. "Never mind. I can help you."

"No," he blurted, alarmed. "No, leave it." His hands were trembling in their bonds, but he couldn't stop, though the shaking made him hurt more.

She looked into his face and shook her head. "Why? I can heal it, I promise. I have not the skill of Queen Frigga, I know, but I have some."

He tried to stop shaking long enough to get the words out, "No. He'll know you helped, hurt you--"

She smiled with surprised pleasure. "You're concerned for me?" Her hand gently patted his cheek. "I can handle Malekith." 

"It is … not," his voice emerged scratchy and weak, "not Malekith. Thanos. Thanos possesses him, Sigyn. Thanos did this." 

She pulled her hand back to frown at him, shaking her head once in confusion. "Thanos? But I've seen nothing…." she trailed off, gaze flicking aside as she recalled something. Her pause gave him time to collect himself better, breathe and focus; he put the pain into a box and closed the lid. It was still there, but dull-edged enough to think. 

"He told us not to disturb him in his work room after the attack, and when he emerged…" Her eyes met his, horrified. "He was different. Calmer. You think he is Thanos?"

"He is."

"Possessed. That is why he will not go above. He cannot stray too far from the point of contact or lose his puppet." Her jaw tightened, and her eyes glinted with fury. 

He knew that was his key -- he had his moment -- he should leverage that anger against Thanos. But both she and Thanos had mentioned something about an attack, something that had angered and distressed Malekith sufficient to call for help from his stronger ally. It could not be Asgard, bottled up behind Kurse's stopper, and no one else would have the strength to reach here. He was wary of a new player he knew nothing about and had not predicted. "Attack?" 

She explained to him, "The jotnar have come. Malekith was furious when he saw them. He was not prepared for a second line of battle and put us under siege. They have come for you, as you knew they would." 

He hadn't known that at all, and he had no idea how it had happened, but he certainly wasn't going to admit it. So he gave a little nod as if he'd expected it all along. It was irritating to find out they'd involved themselves - somehow - and made everything worse. They must have come for the paltry vengeance of that one warrior Malekith had killed. Laufey had been too quick to seize his chance to avenge his fallen warriors on Odin, and so it seemed these Jotunn were just as blinded by vengeance.

Not that it was a stupidity the Jotunn suffered from alone. Everyone in the Nine Realms wanted vengeance, never seeing how easily it was exploited by those without the same sentiment. Even himself. He should have known better than fall in the same trap, and yet he had. It was all so monotonously predictable.

Yet here before him was Sigyn, surely with more cause to revenge than anyone, and her expression was not satisfaction at his suffering, but concern. 

"I will help you," she decided. He wanted to stop her, but all he could do was sway backwards, and even that made him clench his jaw to keep from crying out at the renewed fire in his legs from the movement. The rest of him suddenly felt terribly cold and he shivered again. She shook her head and touched his cheek with her fingertips, smoothing the skin along his jaw. He wondered what she saw in his eyes to be so gentle. "Be easy. I will place everything where it should be and start the healing. Your body will heal itself the rest of the way. It'll take longer but should seem less like you had help." 

"Why?" he managed to ask. "Why would you … risk… for me?"

"Because he stole my brother--"

He shook his head minutely in denial. "No. You were going to help before you knew that. So, why?... Is it a trick?"

"It would serve you right, if it were," she said, "considering how you try to manipulate me. But no." She considered and answered softly, "We're the same, you and I." Her touch slid down his neck, tracing the narrow ridges there that were jotunn markings. He flinched from her deliberate touch that reminded him of what he truly was. "I too hide who I am. Because my father was ashamed of my face." 

Then, astonishingly, he felt the soft feather of power as an illusion released and Sigyn's face changed. Her skin darkened from the pale white of the dark elves to a more golden tint, her white hair to the color of honey, and her eyes turned bright, leafy green. Even her ears, the larger pointed ones, changed shape, shrinking to more elegant curves. "My mother was Ljosalfar," she explained. "My father and brother make me hide it, so the people never know I'm a half-breed freak."

Her gaze met his in challenge, looking for his reaction and expecting revulsion, but he could only stare, pain held in abeyance by his amazement. "But you are beautiful," he murmured.

The words stunned her, as if she'd never heard them before. Then she snorted dismissivley. "You would say that even if I were a horrible hag since you want my help."

He grimaced, realizing his reputation was working against him. "I would say … we are the same. But here… I need not lie. Half-breed you may be, but not a freak."

She stiffened as if she wanted to argue, and the illusion snapped back over her. "You're not a half-breed, what do you know?" But her temper was quick to diminish, and her lips quirked in a wry smile. "I suppose you do know something of it." She knelt down and her hands were gentle on his upper legs. "I am sorry," she murmured. "This will hurt. Brace yourself."

He inhaled as deep a breath as he could manage and let it out, trying to center himself and keep a cool void where the pain would not reach him. "Begin." 

It hurt, but when she was finished, the gentle warmth in his legs chased the pain away and it was almost pleasant to hang there in the haze. She brought another cup of water and this time he said nothing as she held it for him and let him drink it all. But their eyes met and when she pulled the empty cup from his lips, he said, meaning it, "Thank you." 

Her fingers trembled and she took a hasty step back, turning away. "I cannot free you," she said, "So do not look at me like that." 

"You helped me and I thanked you. Nothing more." 

She turned the cup in her hands and snorted a laugh. " _'Nothing_.' You have a strange definition of 'nothing,' Loki Silvertongue." 

But it was true. She had done enough already. He would not wish Thanos on his worst enemy -- well, maybe Malekith, but not at Sigyn's expense. "I am here of my own choice, Sigyn," he said. "I knew the consequences when I pushed Thor to Midgard and stayed behind." 

She raised her eyebrows. "You could not have planned Thanos entering in astral form; do not try to convince me you knew that was to come." 

"Well, not exactly that. But I knew I would have to hold against cruelty long enough for the army to defeat Svartalfheim. I did not plan for you either, but I am grateful." He gave her a smile. "Thank you for showing me the truth. You should go to Asgard; people would admire you and there you could be yourself." 

"Could I? You cannot," she murmured.

He glanced at his arm. He'd grown more used to the color and the black nails on his hands, but it still made his insides clench with revulsion whenever he thought about what he truly was. "I … it is not the same. There is no place for this flesh on Asgard."

His family might profess not to care about the truth, but everyone else certainly would. He was not a true son of Odin, he was not even Aesir; he was of the enemy. Didn't he get enough scorn from the warriors for simply being a sorceror? "Books and magic" one of them had sneered, as if those things were useless. That was who he was though: books and magic, and enemy blood besides.

"The Jotunn army is here for you. Perhaps if Asgard will not accept all of you, then you should go to those who do."

He wondered if she was trying to turn him against his own as he was trying to do to her. Or if she simply meant well. But it was irrelevant as he would never deal with brutes who thought leaving infants to die was a good idea. "They do not, not truly. Perhaps they see that Malekith possessing myself and the Casket of Ancient Winters risks their realm as well. But they despise those who are small and weak." Like the Aesir did, making Asgard and Jotunheim more alike than different, though neither would ever see that.

Sigyn chuckled softly in disbelief. "They think you weak? Then they are fools. Even when I hated you, I knew better." She let out a disgruntled sigh while he was pleased that she'd put her hatred officially in the past. "We are both, it seems, surrounded by fools." 

"That we are." 

It was such a pleasant chat that he nearly forgot he was still chained up. But sounds in the corridor outside reminded them both with a start.

"I should go." But she lingered, looking at him. He could see the conflict in her eyes, before she blurted, "I'll do what I can to help you." 

She hurried out, carefully dousing the light again and shutting the heavy door behind her. 

The more tactical side of his mind was pleased his plan was succeeding so well, despite or perhaps because of Thanos' surprise appearance, but mostly he was pondering Sigyn's mixed blood and what that meant. A small knot of anger lodged under his ribs at Durn and Malekith for making her hide that beauty under a dull and typical Svartalfen face.

Gritting his teeth, he moved his legs to let his feet take some of his weight again and take pressure off his shoulders. Everything ached as the bones knitted again, but without the intense pain of before.

He expected to be left alone for awhile, and let himself doze to help the healing. But it seemed quite soon that the door was flung open, crashing into the stone behind it. He flinched violently and had to clench his hands at the renewed surge of pain from the unwise movement.

Guards rushed in to take up places along the wall. Thanos strolled in behind them. "Time to move to new, better chambers." 

Loki wasn't fooled by the 'better' - this wasn't meant to be 'better'. Not for him. He darted a glance to the doorway, but Sigyn was nowhere in sight. He hoped she wasn't in trouble, but ultimately there was nothing he could do. Either she would help or she could not; he had to keep his focus on what was most important. He had to hold onto his strength, push the fear away, and resist whatever Thanos was planning. Somehow.


	15. The Deepening Taint

* * *

Thanos smiled, and when he was right in front of Loki, let the darkness fill his eyes to remind Loki who he was truly facing, even if he pushed it away to address Malekith's people. "Take him down." 

They left the manacles on his wrists, but lowered the chains, so his arms finally could fall to his sides. Muscle and bones fixed in one position so long protested. His knees were not healed enough to support him, and he fell to the floor. Panting for breath, trying to control the pain, he stayed there, determined not to move until they made him. 

Thanos seized his hair and pulled his head back. "Stand and walk, toy, or they drag you." 

He loathed the idea of crawling before his enemy, and ordinarily would have forced himself to walk no matter the price, but he dared not reveal that he was more healed than he should be. So he made one attempt for pride, and found that collapsing back down was less for show than he wished it to be. They ended up dragging him by the chains attached to the tight cuffs on his wrists through the stone halls. It was a feast of pain and humiliation as the watching Svartalfen were encouraged to kick him and throw refuse as he passed.

He made sure to memorize each and every face of those who tormented him, adding them to a pleasant revenge fantasy of grabbing a knife off one of the guards and cutting their throats. It was messy and personal and best of all, while he was immersed in it, he felt no pain at all. 

But he stirred when they took him past onlookers into an area that seemed quiet and eventually deserted. The tunnel narrowed and he passed under an arch and felt movement of air, as the temperature dropped. They dragged him up a few steps and across a smooth floor. Looking up, he was at the bottom of a hole. It seemed to be a well or a chimney - a vertical, round shaft over two hundred paces high, polished smooth, but open. There was daylight out there and blue sky. 

"Chain him down," Thanos ordered. 

The guards lifted Loki up and placed him on his back on a long, block of stone, so narrow he nearly fell off before they wrenched his arms back and down, chest and shoulders stretched, wrists held by metal cuffs affixed to the floor. The chains wrapped his feet and ankles, and he was tightly bound to the stone, looking upward at the distant opening to the sky. 

Thanos dismissed the guards in Malekith's voice, but didn't bother to pretend when speaking to Loki, "You stay here until you beg me to let you use the Casket to open the portal for me." 

"Oh, well, in that case, if it's so easy," Loki widened his eyes and added in a mocking voice, "please, please, let me use the Casket. I promise I'll open the portal for you." The sing-song fake promises died away and he demanded through clenched teeth and a surging tide of hatred, "Now give me the Casket so I can peel the flesh off Malekith's bones and send you back to whatever hell dimension spawned you." 

Thanos' pitiless eyes didn't change expression, neither angered nor amused by the defiance. "You challenge me, as if I know nothing about you, as if you can trick me with your childish games," he murmured and his hand made a light trail across Loki's chest, up his neck, and to his face. "But I know you - I have seen your mind. I know the hate and the rage within; the fear and pain in your soul. I will pluck them all out, one by one, and feed them back to you. And you will belong to me." 

Loki stared back, lips peeling back. "Never." 

Thanos put his hand on Loki's forehead. "Much sooner than that." 

It began with a chill in the air, across his skin. A tendril seeking the cracks in his defenses, smoke seeping inside... and he realized this was what had happened before.  
The inky foulness sank within, seeking a place to root. This time, Loki fought it, knowing he had to resist. But he didn't understand what it was looking for, so when he set his defenses against an attack on his will, that wasn't where it headed, and it sank deep before he could stop it.

His vision went black and his awareness of his surroundings dimmed, until he was falling, backward. 

Into memory. 

_He was on the floor of the eastern hall, on his back, his every bone felt shattered. It hurt so badly, hurt so much, but he could barely breathe and so his voice was a whisper: "Thor? Are you… there?"_

_He couldn't turn his head; maybe his neck was broken. Though his left hand could move, he found nothing to grasp but the cold tiles of the floor. "Thor?" he whispered again._

_From far away, he heard Thor's laughter, echoed by his friends' and the clink of metal goblets and loud toasts through the laughter. "To Freyr, who can make the birds fly!"_

_The sounds of boots came across the tile, until Thor came into view above him. He looked down, grinning. "There you are, little bird! Good flight."_

_Fandral joined him and laughed. "Excellent flight. I think we should always use the foundling for practice. Think you he minds much?_ "

 _Volstagg added, "Ask him nothing. You know Jotunn have not the wit to speak_." 

_Loki blinked, aware that wasn't… right. He whispered, "Thor_?" 

_Thor laughed. "I think he tries to speak my name." Then, casually, he kicked Loki in the ribs, making him choke on the pain. "You lack respect for a prince of the blood._ " 

_No. This was wrong. This wasn't how it had happened._

_But his awareness that it was a nightmare changed nothing. It didn't stop and when he tried to wake up, he couldn't_.

 _"He probably doesn't know the proper form of address. He's a runt, no giant at all. He can't even eat meat. Maybe he's half rabbit and that's why he's so small," Fandral suggested and they all laughed. Loki's good hand curled into a tight fist, anger welling inside the pain._

_Freyr appeared, next to Thor. "Is he ready? Winner gets to have him for the night, right?"_

_Loki's eyes went wide, and his heart felt cold as ice. No, this wasn't right. Freyr was awful, but he'd never done that. Yet he suddenly could remember it; it sat in his memory as if it had always been there, dark memories of Freyr's bedchamber and Freyr taking whatever he wanted_. 

_"No. This is not real. This is not happening." Loki lifted his hand and, summoning his power from a core of renewed hate and rage, blasted Thor in his smug face._

The use of power broke the vision's hold as the collar tightened, strangling him, but when he opened his eyes he saw the dim confines of the well and his own cries still echoing from the round walls.

Heavy footsteps rejoined him and Thanos said, "I will change every memory you have. One by one. Until all you know is misery and hate. And then, when the Loki who is, ceases to exist, you will open the portal for me, because you will **want** me to come and destroy them all." 

"It isn't real, I know it isn't real." 

"And when you know no more?" Thanos purred, coming closer, Malekith's changed eyes looking down on him. His cold fingers brushed Loki's face, and Loki jerked away. "When reality becomes something I construct in your mind? Or perhaps you will know some of it is real and some of it is not, but you will not know which is which. That, my pet, is madness." 

"I will see you burn," Loki hissed. "My vengeance will come for you; fear me, Thanos." 

But Thanos only laughed and put his hand on Loki's forehead again. Loki tried to dislodge him but couldn't. 

"Again." 

Loki could feel the mental poison dripping within him again, seeking out another memory to ruin it with its foulness.

"No. No, I will not let you do this again!" He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to stop the taint. Fighting it. Resisting with everything he had left. Holding on to who he was and what he was, and all his memories, because even if they weren't always the greatest, they were **him**.

And Thanos would take them away. 

But the smoke was unstoppable, reaching deep within…

 _He was in the cell in the undercroft of Asgard. And he hurt so much, fire in his body and mind, burning alive. In the midst of it, he heard a voice call in horror and anguish: "Loki!_ " 

_He had to look, stirring from his fetal position on the floor, to see Frigga there. No, he didn't want her to see him like this. "No. No. Go away," he said in a low, raw voice_.

 _She went to her knees on the other side of the barrier from him. "Loki. I am here._ "

 _"No," he whispered. "You must leave." He turned over and then struggled to his feet. He needed to stand, to prove that he could beat this. She watched him, biting her lip, beautiful face strained with worry. He stumbled, catching himself on the wall, and leaned against it for a moment, panting. Then he turned around, trying to hold the illusion that all was well_.

_"There is nothing to be concerned-" he started but the fire flared, burning him, and he choked back a gasp, flinching violently. No, he had to show her nothing was wrong, so she could leave._

_"Loki!" she called, commanding. "Look at me." She waited until he lifted his head and his eyes met hers. "Stop," she told him, more gently. "You need no pretense with me."_

_He dropped to his knees before her, letting the illusion melt away_. 

_"Just give in, Loki," she murmured, her hand on the glass. "Surrender to it._ "

_He jerked his head up in horror. This wasn't right._

_She smiled back at him, but now there was a cruel edge to her smile. "Let it fill you. Why fight what is stronger than you? You were always so weak, Loki. Always so needy. You always needed me so much, instead of being a man, like Thor._ "

 _He leaned back from her, stricken, as she said the words he'd always feared that she was thinking._

_"I should have let Odin foster you with one of the servants, instead of pretending you were mine. But you were a cute baby, once that hideous blue was hidden away. I pitied you, poor tiny thing. When I realized what a clingy, weak, useless boy you were, it was too late to take it back._ "

 _He backed away from the barrier, until he was against the opposite wall but unable to take his eyes from her. "No. You are not my mother. She told me she wanted me; she said she loved me._ "

 _"Love you?" she repeated with an incredulous scornful laugh. "Who could love **you**?_ "

_The words struck the hardest blow, cracking his heart and filling it with pain and despair. She didn't love him; it was all a lie. Her cold eyes seemed triumphant watching him as he stared at her. She smiled, enjoying the impact of her words, and there was a familiar curl to her lips. A gloating smirk he had seen elsewhere, and he groped for the memory. He couldn't remember who it had been, but it was enough to remind him that this was not his mother. This was an imposter, a hallucination of Frigga._

_"You are false! A liar. And this is not how it happened!" He yelled the words and then, remembering it had worked before, he raised his hand and threw fire._

The collar reacted and it was a relief to break the vision. But when it loosened and he could gasp for breath, he found himself alone. He stared up at the distant round hole and the few stars up there with hopeless tears gathering in his eyes.

Because he still remembered the nightmare. It had been a false vision, but his memory of the truth was mixed with this horror that had never happened. In time, he wouldn't even remember it had happened another way.

She wanted me, she said so, he reminded himself. But now the memory was stronger of her voice demanding, " _Who could love you_?" 

Feeling so very lost, he looked up at those stars, silently crying out to the only one who might be able to hear him and offer solace: _Help me, Amma, help me. Help me remember what's true_.

* * *

Frigga felt … watched. She turned slowly, frowning. Days into the siege, this was new. Was this Malekith finally making his move? There had been some great unrest in the aether a day ago, which she had not been able to decipher, but knew it boded ill. This, though, seemed less ominous, and more as if someone stared at the back of her neck.

"My queen?" Sif asked curiously, and also looked around with a hand on her sword.

"There is something," Frigga murmured. "Something wants my attention." Then, with resolute step, she turned and started back. "Sif, make sure I'm not disturbed, I need to find what this is."

Sif nodded and stood guard outside the pavilion.

Frigga laid her cloak on the ground and knelt on it, hands at rest on her knees and her eyes closed. She sought a meditative calm, to focus her other senses.

Svartalfheim's heart beat unevenly but hot, matched with the madness of its king, kindled by wrath and lust for power. There was also that slippery, foul taint that made her taste ashes. Thanos.

Beneath that, like a distant song barely heard, there was something else. She was not quite able to touch it, but she had a sense of it finally, as it brushed past.

 _Loki… is it you_? 

It had to be. It was him. Somehow she was finally sensing him.

Concentrating, she reached more deeply. 

There, a single faintly glowing green filament in the aether, she found him. Her power, golden and shining, twined around the green. 

She nearly pulled away in reflexive dismay. Dear ancestors, so much pain and turmoil… But instead she tightened her grip. He was distant and she could barely touch him, but she had to be strong long enough to reach him. _Loki_ …

… _help me, Amma, he's here, he's breaking me, help me_ … 

He didn't know she was there, hearing him; it was a desperate prayer that he didn't believe would be answered. 

She called out with all her strength, " _I am here, little one, I am here with you. Hold on tight… Promise me, Loki… you will escape…_ "

There was a hesitation and then Loki's astonished, hopeful exclamation as he realized she was truly there. " _Mother_?" 

To her surprise he did not strengthen the connection from his end. " _I cannot hold you, little one, you're so far away, but please, please don't give up. Look for a way out, remember_ ," she urged, slipping and clawing for just a little more. " _My love with you, always…_ " 

The green filament fell through her grasp and was gone. She called for him and searched, but could find no trace.

Frigga opened her eyes to find tears on her cheeks. She wiped them dry and lit a candle to try again with a new technique, trying to find him. _Reach out for me again, Loki, I can't find you if you don't reach out_...

But there was nothing. 

"My queen?" Sif's cautious voice asked from the flap. "Is all well?"

Frigga shook her head once, feeling all of her years as a heaviness in her spirit. "No, Sif. It is not. I touched Loki's thoughts briefly. Malekith is hurting him, and I cannot find him."

Sif came inside and knelt before her. "We will scout again. There must be ways inside. Volstagg will stay with you and the rest of us will sneak into the valley and look. They will expect Frost Giants, not us." 

Frigga wanted to forbid it, as both too dangerous and unlikely to succeed when she knew that Malekith had no doubt warded all the gates, but instead she nodded, fearing there was little time remaining. "Yes. Go. Do what you can."

* * *

Loki's eyes opened. He had fallen away from her embrace, but he knew it had been real. Frigga had found him. He looked at the opening to the sky above him and smiled a little. This place was meant to bestow despair that freedom was out of reach, but now it gave him hope-- through that small hole he could reach her. She had to be within the Realm, most likely with the jotnar army through some clever alliance she must have made with them.

He was still smiling when Thanos' heavy step in the entryway warned of his return. "So how is the war going?" Loki called. "Oh, wait, I need not ask, do I? If you won on Asgard, you would no longer need me, so apparently Kurse is content to sit in front of the gates and do nothing. Great warrior he might be, but he was never very smart."

"Kurse will find my treasures and burn Asgard."

"Kurse can barely manage to fasten his swordbelt," Loki snorted. "He will never defeat Thor or Odin Allfather."

Thanos grabbed his chin. "And if I send them pieces of you? A finger? An eye?"

Loki had been expecting that threat, which let him give a lazy smirk. "Odin would probably find the eye flattering. But you know he watched me fall from the Bifrost without flinching. He will never surrender anything to save me." Not that Loki _wanted_ him to surrender anything, but he did wish that he could worry that Odin might. Thor had slammed his way into the cell believing Loki was dying and Frigga probably would have, too - but Odin had waited until Loki was a whisper from death to intervene at all. Loki himself had been absolutely certain in the Hall of Treasures that he would die. It had felt strangely fitting to perish in Odin's embrace, when once Odin had saved him, his whole life come full circle.

"Maybe not, but it might be fun," Thanos' claws dragged down his cheek and seized his ear in a tight grip, yanking his head to the limit of his neck. "Will Odin's gentle queen weep to see this in a box?" he whispered. "Shall we find out?" 

Loki flinched in spite of himself. He needed only a little more time to get out of this hellhole, and it was ironic that Thanos was threatening this now. But he wasn't going to falter, not for something he could hide with illusions if he wished. He had hidden his skin color for a thousand years without even knowing he was doing it; he could certainly pretend to a body part he lacked. Or maybe he wouldn't bother. "Am I supposed to fear that?" he sneered. "You think me a mortal to be bothered by such trivialities? It will be a war trophy, something to display to my children to celebrate your defeat."

"You are the one defeated, pet." Thanos said it, but he also let go of Loki's ear, realizing the threat wasn't going to work as he intended. 

"Captured. Not defeated." 

"Your defeat is assured when I know where you are weakest." Thanos touched his forehead. 

_Loki opened his eyes, the lingering ache in his body like an echo of the pain that put his bones on fire, but it was coals now._

_He was in his cell again, the energy barrier stretched across the front of the featureless cage. Outside, Frigga knelt alone, watching him with desperate eyes and cheeks still stained with the remnants of tears_.

 _It was wrong. His memories of his last hours in his cell on Asgard were shredded and sparse, but he knew that Thor had been the one to stay_. 

_She saw him push himself up, the hope suffusing her face like a sun's rays. "Loki? You have defeated it?_ "

 _No, he had not. He could feel the dark coil in his mind, and he couldn't stop it from shaking his head sadly. "Only for a time," his mouth made the words. "But time enough to be free._ " 

_Loki wanted to scream, to protest, to stop it but he had no control over his hands as they moved to create the ice dagger. But this one wasn't real. It was only illusion_. 

_"I am so sorry I was such a failure of a son, Mother," he whispered. "Forgive me someday._ " 

_"Loki, no- sweetheart, no, do not do this- " she threw herself at the barrier pounding it with both fists. "You can fight it, you can be free another way - look at me, listen to me--_ " 

_"This is the only way." Then he plunged the ice blade into himself and collapsed forward. Beyond the barrier, Frigga screamed his name_. 

_Five seconds later, the barrier fell with a buzzing pop and Frigga rushed in. "Loki, this is not the answer," she whispered frantically and turned him over_. 

_Her grip stilled as she saw the lack of blood and that his eyes were open and held no pain. He smirked at her. "I warned you but you never did pay attention to who I really am, did you?_ " 

_No, no, no, no… Loki tried to stop the ice from forming, tried to throw himself backward, tried to stop the hand from plunging the dagger into her chest. But for naught_.

 _Her eyes flew wide and horrified at the betrayal as the dagger pierced deep. He pulled it free, and blood bloomed on her soft blue bodice and all over his hands_. 

_Abruptly the taint was gone, its work done, and Loki was there in his own body again, his hands full of blood and his mother's body as he caught her from falling backwards. "No, no, what have I - no - this cannot be - I have to heal it -_ " 

_She choked out his name just once and then she was gone. Dead at his hands. He had killed her_. 

_Anguish and desolation filled him, unbearable guilt that pierced to his own heart. He clutched her cold and empty body to him, rocking back and forth, wishing he was with her_.

_Too broken for tears, all he could do was whisper, "Amma, no, no, please..."_

_And he let the grief take him._

* * *


	16. Visions of What Was Not

* * *

He held her to him, tangling his fingers in her blood-soaked hair. He willed her heart to beat, her spirit to return, her eyes to come to light again - but it was all too late. She was gone, dead, beyond his reach, and he would never see her again. She was lost, and now he was lost in her wake, falling into the nothing where she had been.

The shadows pressed him, and they laughed and laughed as their claws tore his flesh to ribbons. But he let them. Nothing mattered. Let them rip him apart, and let them take him… she was dead and it was over.

Yet it was not. A whisper, a breeze, something touched him, a gentle persitence that demanded attention. At first he ignored it, since it was too distant to distract him, but then he heard his name. "Loki?"

The call split the darkness around him, at first a watery thin brightness but then a ray of light reaching toward him. "Loki!" 

A slap on his cheek snapped his eyes open. For a moment his vision was weirdly twinned with two 'realities' - the bright cell on Asgard and the feel of his mother's body, and the dim confines of the pit on Svartalfheim and Sigyn's pale face above him. 

She frowned at him worriedly. "Come back," she urged him, hand turning gentle on his cheek. "Here. Loki, see me, not whatever nightmare holds you in its grip." 

The brighter illusion faded, as he blinked and focused on her face. "It was not real?" He meant to state it as a fact, but his voice quavered and rose up in a question, and the grief-stricken pressure on his chest would not ease.

Her fingers brushed the sides of his face, wiping away tears. He felt as if he should be embarrassed by that, but her face held nothing of mockery, only sympathy. "No, only a terrible vision Thanos thrust upon you. It was not real," she reassured him.

He inhaled a ragged breath and let it out slowly, trying to find calm again. _Not real. It did not happen. Mother's still alive. I did not kill her_.

But he could still feel the blood on his fingers, still feel that sickening guilt inside, hollowing him out into a glass vial vaguely shaped into his form, but an abyss within. 

"I need to get you out of here," Sigyn whispered urgently, casting a nervous look over her shoulder. She tugged futilely on the lock on his wrist nearest her. "But Malekith - Thanos - carries the key. I need to get it." 

That snapped him more aware with alarm. "No," he said. "No. Do not try. He will kill you." 

"I will help you," she declared, so fiercely the true green of her eyes flashed through the illusion.

"You roused me from the nightmare. You helped," he reassured her. 

"Not enough." 

"Then," he thought about it, but there was really only one way left. "I need you to bring a knife." 

"What? A knife? Why?" she asked, warily.

"To set me free. Plunge it in my heart and I will die." 

She jerked back, eyes wide with shock and dismay. "No!" 

"You must. I cannot stay here; I cannot-- he will break me, and we will all lose. So take a knife, fill your mind with vengeful thoughts of your father and the thousands of Svartalfen I slaughtered, and kill me." 

She shook her head in frantic denial. "No, I will not. I will get the key-" 

"Do not be a fool! He will snap your neck. There is no other way." When she still looked resistant, he knew he had to push harder. "Or will you let all of your people go unavenged? I attacked them, it was no accident. I enjoyed it. I felt elation as I watched them scream and burn." 

She flinched at his harsh tone, but recovered and shook her head. "Even if that was true -"

"Oh it is, very true - " 

"- it matters not. I know you mean to provoke me. But I will not murder you, Loki. I will not. I will get you free. We are powerful beings and there is always another way." 

"There is no other way!" The note of hysteria in his voice echoed against the walls, and he clenched his jaw to silence himself.

"I know things seem bleak--"

"They **are** bleak," he snapped, all out of patience. "And will be bleaker still, unless you--"

She silenced him with fingers across his lips. "Hush," she murmured, and her other hand smoothed back his hair. "You are still shaken by that nightmare. Do not let that monster drive you to hopelessness, Loki. You are strong. Be bold." 

_Bold_. That reminded him of Thor, and he choked out a laugh and turned his head away. "I am no kind of hero, Lady Sigyn. I never have been."

_I destroy and I kill… I do not deserve gentleness. I am the monster who would murder the only one who ever loved me..._

Sigyn's hand alighted on his chest, startling him from the cold depths of his own despair with her warmth. "I disagree. I think you are in pain and you want an end, but your offer to sacrifice yourself so others may live remains heroic."

"Nay, the blood on my ledger runs too deep for hero." He meant to laugh; it came out too bitter. "Pin not your hopes on the repentant villain; he will disappoint you in the end."

Her hand coaxed him to turn his head back to face her. "I am sister to Malekith the Accursed and a wielder myself; you think I do not know the allure of the dark power? Give me one who has tasted it and found the strength to turn away, over one who has never tasted it at all."

He looked up at her, searching her eyes for deceit. But there was none. She offered understanding freely, unaware of what a gift it was to him. That she believed him to be strong when he felt so terribly weak seemed absurd, yet she did. 

He wanted so much to lift his hand and touch her true hair, to know how that honey-gold softness felt against his fingers. It was an abrupt desire and made him feel oddly breathless and unsettled. He pushed it away as irrelevant, holding to the truth of his situation. "This is all very sentimental, but the fact remains that Thanos is poisoning my mind, and he will break me from the inside unless I contrive escape." With a chill, he suddenly recalled the energy he was storing in the collar -- he'd _forgotten_ he had been trying to make another path. "There may be a way…"

"Oh!" She lifted her head, thinking she knew his idea but with one of her own. "The Casket. You tried to get to the Casket despite the collar so it must be of use to you, even shielded. It sits unattended in Malekith's chamber. If I bring it here, can you use it to break the dampener collar?"

Now that was an excellent idea, even better than his own attempt to attack the collar. "If you can contrive a way to bring the Casket to me, so I may touch it, a great many things will break." He smiled, thinking of it. Not only could he break the collar and the chains, but he could take out all of Svartalfheim.

Sigyn put a finger across his lips. "No. Promise me you will not harm the innocents here. There are many who do not deserve your vengeance, who are victims as much as you are."

The impulse to total vengeance crested and fell; he grimaced. "Very well. I swear. But in exchange, I want a promise from you: if you cannot fetch the Casket, you will bring a knife and end this. Before it becomes too late for us all."

Her eyes met his and she nodded somberly, understanding the stakes in play. "Done."

"Be wary of a trap; it must be less unattended than you believe."

"I was not born of a cabbage yesterday." She drew back, affronted by his unnecessary advice.

Despite the desperate circumstances, the retort made him smile. "No, you were born of a Valkyrie, in summer, with starlight in your eyes." 

She leaned down close and caressed his cheek. "You need not flatter me when I have already given up my soul to help you." 

"Perhaps you found it instead." 

"Perhaps I did." Her breath feathered across his lips and for a moment, he hoped for more, but then she straightened away, her hand still on his cheek. "Now I owe you a kiss, Loki Silvertongue. You may collect it, if you wish, when we are both free." 

He found he had no words, at all. But within, a tentative hope blossomed that he would collect it. 

Her free hand found his, wrist locked to the base of the altar, and she gripped his fingers briefly. "Hold on," she urged him. "I will return." 

When Thanos returned, Loki knew he had to hold Thanos' attention while Sigyn found the Casket. He swallowed, centered himself, and looked into the cold eyes calmly.

"You will never win, Thanos. You are your own undoing." 

"I am eternal. I am forever. You, pet, are only as long as I wish you to exist. In misery and torment." 

He remembered Stark's casual, infuriating defiance, and smirked, "Really? Because from here it looks like I have beaten you twice. I beat your attempt to make me bring you the Gauntlet, and now I'm beating you again. You made your big play to crush me, and yet you are still outside Jormungandr. All I have to do is… absolutely nothing to keep you there. I believe they call that victory."

Thanos' hand wrapped his throat and squeezed. "You are a worm. Less than a worm. And I will see you crawl on your belly before me, begging to please me." 

Loki stared back into his eyes, unflinching. If Thanos killed him -- Loki would win again because he would take the Casket with him. And he wasn't afraid of death.

Thanos let go and Loki gasped, wishing he could rub his neck. His throat ached, all the way to the bone, and he couldn't swallow and barely draw air through the constricted passage. 

"Only a foolhardy warrior declares victory before the battle is completed," Thanos warned and grinned at him, chilling and cold. "And you, toy, have to keep winning and winning. I need only win once. Shall we see how many times you can win before you lose?"

A cold hand settled on Loki's brow and he felt the inky foulness creep in the cracks in his defenses. 

Again and again.

* * *

… _he dropped a clear cylinder with the same smirk, but this time, he knew Thor would die and he only regretted his action when it was too late_ … 

… _he watched as Laufey thrust a spear into Odin Allfather's sleeping form and when Frigga looked to him in desperate appeal, Loki stood unmoving as Laufey cut her down as well. Then Laufey turned to him, grinning. "Truly you are my son_."… 

The false memories of death and horror stained his thoughts, an insidious poison of his spirit that crept in despite his will. He resisted, tried to hold on to what he knew was the truth, but felt battered and weary, a capsized sailor clutching flotsam in the midst of a vast dark sea, wave after wave crashing over him.

… _he fell back on the floor, shoved away by the queen. "Do not touch my gown with your filthy hands, boy_." 

_He looked up in confusion. "Mother?_ "

 _Her eyes were cold as she struck him across the face. It didn't hurt, but it was a shock. She had never raised her hand to him. Or had she?_

_"I am not your mother. You are a servant, and a sickly, mostly useless one at that. Know your place and do your work, and never call me that again._ "

_Not his mother. He remembered hurling those words at her in hateful accusation, but that made no sense. He knew she wasn't his mother. He was a servant, brought to Asgard to save his life and then allowed to work. He was grateful for that much. Why would he ever think that the queen was his mother?_

_Yet why could he hear her voice so clearly: "I am here, little one, I am here for you."_

_He crouched on the floor and watched Frigga walk away, then clutched his head as uncertainty tore at him. Where was he? When was he? She couldn't be his mother, that much was clear, because his skin was the wrong color and she was the queen and he was … nothing._

_But. Mother. He remembered brushing her long beautiful hair, and how it felt under his fingers - something the queen would never let him do._

_He remembered a golden light embracing him, and her voice that reminded him of the truth_.

 _And he remembered trying to touch her on the other side of the barrier when she told him how much she had wanted him. That she loved him_. 

He latched onto that memory with iron claws, refusing to let it go. She was his mother, she had come for him, and anything else was a lie. 

He opened his eyes back in his prison, stone table under his back. Inhaling a breath, he calmed the rapid beat of his heart and looked around the room as best he could. It was deserted, Thanos was gone. Loki hoped Sigyn had been able to reach the Casket, but he had to do his part as well to weaken the collar.

Closing his eyes, he went back to dripping potential energy into the collar carefully. He forced himself to concentrate on that small deed and push the fear away. Nothing else existed in that time, only himself carefully harvesting droplets that existed only in potential. It was soothing.

He had little time before he felt the air shift and a presence intrude on his sense of the room. There were quick footsteps and he turned his head to see Sigyn approaching from the shadowy recess. His disappointment when he saw her carrying nothing was a knife to the gut.

"I almost had it," she whispered, kneeling beside him. "But he came back too soon. But I did find out it is protected by naught but a simple ward. I can take it easily."

"Then it must be a trap," he said. 

"The instant I take it, he will know. He is never far from it. Why would he need more, when it is of no use to anyone?" she asked.

It was of use to Loki, of course, but perhaps Thanos thought there was no way Loki would be able to free himself of his restraints. "We need a distraction to draw him away." He frowned, trying to think. "Perhaps the jotnar can attack in force." 

"But how could I possibly pass word to them that is needed?"

"Not you, me." 

"You?" she looked at him incredulously. "How are you going to do something I cannot?"

He remembered a bright golden flame surrounding him in warmth. "My mother is with them. I can reach her."

Regarding him, she shook her head. "Despite the collar? That is … impressive."

He cast his eyes upward and managed a bit of a smile. "Not so much. There is a hole in my cell. And the queen of Asgard has power of her own. She will bring them to attack, while you fetch the Casket." 

She hesitated, glancing down, as if realizing this was finally true betrayal she could not explain away. "Sigyn, I am never escaping this place without greater help," he reminded her. "If you help me - if we become separated - go to her, tell her how you helped me. She will know you speak truly and shelter you." 

She lowered her eyes, considering his offer and the risk she was taking where she might have to leave her home and flee to the place of people she'd long thought her enemy. Loki waited, knowing she had to decide, even though there was little choice. She would have to flee, he was fairly certain of that. Malekith or Thanos would not be pleased with her helping him. At least she would have a place to go. 

When she lifted her head again, it was to return his look proudly, her choice made for good. "We must not allow that monster into the Nine Realms." 

It was still a relief to hear. "No. Stand ready. Do not return until you have it. We may get only one chance at this."

She nodded. "But it will work, and we will stop him, and show them even the freaks can save the Realms."

That made him almost smile. "Yes. Together." She set her hand briefly on his chest and he watched her leave. Then he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, settling himself into a trance, deeper and deeper until he was all spirit and mental energy and sent it forth. 

The collar constricted his throat, but he ignored it, floating upward, higher and higher. There was no sight here, only the aether, and he started to search for that brilliance that was the queen of Asgard in a place that had no form and no direction, governed by will. 

_Mother, hear me. Where are you? Hear me, I know you are close._

He searched, but there was no reply and he couldn't find her. Last time, he had been desperate, less focused, uncontrolled. Perhaps his control was hindering him. 

It wasn't hard to let go of the barrier he'd put between himself and fear. Underneath the bravado and the anger was a deep well of utter terror that flowed up to cover him the moment he let it. The colors turned wrong and the darkness was cloying and threatening. If he didn't grab the Casket and escape this place… _Mother, I need to reach you again. Amma, please, where are you? For a moment, I believed his lies, and I thought you were gone. I am trying to hold on but I don't know if I can. Please find me, I need you. I know it is cowardly and weak and I shouldn't need you so much but_ \--

Suddenly she was there, warmth and light all around him, holding him tight. " _Hush, Loki. There is no shame in loving and needing other people. I am so sorry I made you feel there was anything wrong with coming to me for help. There isn't. I am here for you, now and always_."

He knew they had little time - this was difficult for both of them and he could slip free any second - but he let himself feel comforted, wishing it was her real arms around him. Then, when he felt a bit more put together, trying to forget all the visions that said otherwise, he told her: " _I need the jotnar to attack, as much force inside the halls as you can. I need a distraction for my plan_."

She was pleased to learn he had a plan. He felt their joined grasp weakening and knew he had little time, so added hastily, " _Treat Sigyn gently; she helps me_."

He sensed her surprise and delight at that news, but she urged, " _Stay strong. We are coming_."

There was a tightening, like an embrace or a kiss, and then she was gone. 

He opened his eyes, satisfied. He ached everywhere, but that would fade soon enough, and he felt ready. 

_Soon. I have been under your boot long enough, Thanos, and I will see you squirm under mine._

* * *

...


	17. The Battle Outside

Frigga opened her eyes and took her hand from Volstagg's shoulder. She inhaled deeply, bringing herself back to calm. Loki's summoning had been desperate and sudden, full of fear and a deeper self-loathing that seemed worse than she had sensed before. As if whatever Malekith was doing was chipping away at him from within. 

Volstagg lowered bushy eyebrows at her, concerned. "My queen?"

But she would not share all his secrets. She had shared enough, maybe too much already. "Loki needs us to attack."

"He's escaping?" Volstagg asked.

She nodded, and then found a smile. "It seems Loki managed to persuade Sigyn, Durn's daughter, to help him." 

Volstagg regarded her for a momet and bellowed a laugh that drew attention from nearby giants. "The lad got Malekith's own sister on his side?" He shook his shaggy head, still amused. "Only Loki. He is a cunning one." 

She murmured, "Loki knows the power of words better than most."

Volstagg sobered. "Aye, that he does." He gripped her shoulder. "But now we turn to the power of arms and blades until they give him back."

Her eyes turned toward the broken lands to the east and the deep canyons of the royal city. "We will. I must find Skadi." 

They gathered under the pavilion, where the great map lay unfurled. It was huge, as benefit something the giants could see, and Skadi had several of her people move some rocks into position for the Aesir to stand on and get a view of the map as well. Fandral looked offended by the notion that the queen should climb up on a rock, but offered his hand to steady her. 

From above, the capital of Svartalfheim resembled Yggdrasil. There was one one main canyon that held the river, and several branching side canyons that led down to it from the mountains on either side. The hall was within the cliffs of the eastern side of the river walls. The giants and the Asgardian warriors had found and marked the entrances to the underground labyrinth on the map.

"Loki is prepared to escape," Frigga announced. "But he needs our help to draw Malekith away from him. Which means an attack of sufficient threat that Malekith must come forth to deal with it himself." 

"We attack the gates." Skadi pointed to the near side-canyon. There was a large road, meant to bring supplies and troops, down to the main gates of the palace into the side of the canyon. The road ran beside interior passages, and the giants would face opposition from within. 

"That entrance is highly defensible," Volstagg pointed out. "They can shoot at us through the openings in the wall." 

"These openings are set against short Aesir and Ljosalfar," Jorn grunted. "We tear the tower out here, for the rest we carry shields. No problem."

"Tear out the tower with what?" Fandral asked.

"The catapult." The Frost Giants had started to build a catapult with the wood from the destroyed houses and barns of the surrounding farms. Ordinarily Frigga would have advised against it, as Malekith could reach out with magic to burn it, but he had made no appearance on the field, apparently being too occupied with Loki. 

"There is a secondary gate here," Hogun borrowed one of the very long jotunn arrows and pointed to a farther place along the rim in a side-canyon. "Not disguised, but smaller. Good target." 

"There are hidden entrances here and here," Sif pointed to another spot on the canyon rim and another on the plain not too far away. "We pretended we did not notice them, hoping they would think they remain undetected. But if either opens to attack, we have another way in." 

"What is this?" Skadi pointed to another marking on the map. There was a lower broken ridge line away from the side wall of the canyon. The end of it was topped by flat granite, forcing the river tributary to cut around it, and the warriors had marked something visible in the top.

"A round opening," Sif explained. "Artificial. Perhaps a ventilation shaft."

Frigga frowned at the marking on the map, mentally widening her idea of how deep and spread the halls had to be, if the tunnels reached into that ridge as well. Odin had been right - this place was a labyrinth. That was a point of entry, but it would be difficult climb to get there. "There must be other ventilation shafts." 

"We found two," Fandral said and pointed on the map on the plateau. "Barred and too narrow for even one of us to crawl through, though. There are openings in the canyon wall as well."

"They're rats," Jorn said. "We should throw frostfire down all the holes we know." 

Frigga nodded. If the frostfire took hold that would certainly call Malekith to deal with it. 

"All but one," Sif corrected. "Let them think one is undetected, so they use that one and open the door for us." Frigga glanced at her in surprise - Sif was not usually one for plans of misdirection. She returned a brief, hard smile. "It seems appropriate when rescuing Loki to use his tactics." 

Skadi stroked the handle of her long knife, looking pleased. "Is that so? He has Laufey's cunning."

Frigga thought about how Loki had tricked Laufey into his own death, and forced a smile. "Indeed."

Soon they had their battle plan set. Both the Aesir and Jotunn were accustomed to bold, straight-forward strategies, but Loki's absence seemed to be inspiring a greater interest in more complex tactics.

Jorn and Skadi left the tent to gather their warriors and prepare the attack, and Frigga followed them outside to have a clear line of sight to the halls. She tried to reach Loki to tell him it was starting, but felt no contact. 

Disappointed, she turned to her four warriors. "There is more to the plan. When a gate opens, I will go within." 

"Absolutely not," Volstagg denied immediately. As her oldest friend he was the most willing to contradict her.

"The Allfather and I already discussed this," she reassured him. "I came because I can cloak in invisibility and find him."

"And yet the Allfather ordered us specifically to stay beside you," Fandral declared.

"So we go with you," Sif declared.

Frigga shook her head. "I cannot hide all of you." She directed irritated thoughts at Odin for giving her guards commands behind her back, but likely none of the four would let her do this even without his command. Probably it would be irresponsible for her to go alone, especially when she had no idea what Loki's physical condition was. He had mentioned nothing in particular, but he had been in pain, and he would be difficult for her to carry. "Very well. One other. No more." Just when the four looked as if they would duel for the privilege of getting killed with the queen, she decided, "Hogun, you will come with me." He was the lightest on his feet, and the least reckless of the four. 

Fandral looked disappointed, but bowed with a flourish. "Then we shall protect you up until that last moment." 

The solid thump of the drums began, silencing all other conversation. Swords and spears clashing against their shields followed, and shouted commands at the army. 

With a loud whooshing noise, an immense rock flew overhead and struck the top of the main guard tower, stones crashing and splintering, and with a roar, the battle was joined. 

The first ranks headed for the tower and the road, while the greater number headed for the second gate. 

Frigga waited, keeping alert for a sorcerous counter-attack, and wandered when the tension grew too much for patience. 

A small group of giants handled the frostfire, but they put hands to swords when Frigga approached. Her guards bunched around her, weapons ready, but she put a hand over Fandral's to keep him from drawing his sword. "No. We are not here to learn their secrets. We will go elsewhere." 

She led the warriors away; she was curious about how frostfire was made but this was not the time. Frost Giants were about to die for her son, and the least she could do was stay out of the way.

There was a squad handling the catapult, and another which took some of the frostfire and dumped it down the nearest air shaft. That left the farther hidden gate unattended, behind a few piles of stone in a makeshift wall. There were now some wounded Jotunn there, as if in shelter. Some of them were actually, though minorly wounded, but mostly they were pretending to be wounded, baiting the Dark Elves to emerge from the supposedly secret gate. With hidden weapons, they lay on the ground and waited in ambush.

It was impressive in its way. She would not have guessed the Frost Giants had such a capacity for patience. 

Her footstep paused, realizing that was her own attitude affecting her judgment. Her unthinking reflexive impression of the Jotunn race was impatient, as if they lacked capacity to wait for the strategy to unfold. As if they were not truly intelligent but only clever in the way that Munin was clever … Like something _wild_. 

She recalled the words of 'beasts' and 'monsters' that Loki had hurled in accusation and self-loathing, and she so calm and soothing that of course that wasn't true, and all the while he had known she felt otherwise.

She pressed a hand to her chest, her breaths suddenly coming slow and thick. She had thought she was being fair and kind, doing things like encourage Loki to study the war when Asgard and Jotunheim had been allies, but how often had she implied by her reactions or some other way she had never noticed, that she too was dismissive of them as a people. 

_Oh, dear ancestors, Loki, I understand now. I am so sorry_.

As penance, she wandered through the wounded, 'tending' them, asking their names and about their lives. Some were wary and refused to answer, but after she persisted, a few talked to her. A young one, Sjar, who reminded her of Loki when he slanted a guarded look at her, asked after Loki and how he was cursed by the gods to be small.

"Blessed, I think," she said. "He would not agree, for his size was ever a curse in Asgard as well, since he grew slowly. But think, if he had been left on Jotunheim and stood at your stature, never would he have come to be my son, and never held this power that he does. Your people and mine never would be here together, learning we need not be enemies. Those are gifts that will keep us all alive when the darkness falls upon us again." 

She smiled at Sjar and moved on, while her guards kept a wary eye on the progress of the battle. 

Volstagg paced her. "We have ever been enemies of the giants," he declared, bushy eyebrows low and drawn together, as if he worried that she went too far in declaring friendship with them. 

"The past is a guide, not a chain, old friend. Nor will I permit unfounded enmity to persist when it breaks Loki's heart into bitter shards." Her gaze turned to watch the distant dust clouds as she listened to the shouts of the farther battle. "Had I not been complacent in my own _superior wisdom_ ," she said the word with biting scorn, seeing her failures all the more clearly with the living proof that this had always been possible if she had but tried, "I could have begun this long ago. Odin intended Loki to bring peace between our Realms and seat Loki upon Laufey's throne, but we failed to build a foundation for aught but his hate. So I will correct that as best I can, now." She glanced at Hogun and added, "Even should he refuse the opportunity in the end, it still must happen for his own healing. How else to learn he need not revile himself as one of them, except by others learning we need not revile _them_?"

Sif's gaze followed hers toward the battle. "Jotunheim will be as a candle to the flame of his rage against Malekith and Svartalfheim after this. As soon as he is free, he will avenge himself with the Casket of the Ancient Winters. That seems to me a fearsome thought."

"It is. More than you know," Frigga murmured. She hoped to reach him before that and calm him down from his fury, because she knew he would not stop to consider consequences. If not stopped, he would reach for all the power he could hold, through the Casket, and destroy the Realm, killing everyone from Malekith to the most innocent of babies. The aftermath would destroy him, too, either in guilt or rejection of it. That path assumed he did not destroy himself outright, by foolishly seizing that seed of primordial power deep within the Casket, if he believed he was strong enough to withstand it.

First though, she needed to free him, before she could worry about the aftermath. Her strategy finally bore fruit, as a great roar went up among the nearby Jotunn, as dark elves appeared at the 'hidden' gate and the trap was sprung. 

Her warriors tightened up around her, weapons ready, and Frigga drew her own sword.

"Closer," she urged them. "We need to get inside." 

Yelling, Volstagg and Fandral charged to clear a path. 

The Dark Elf warriors were tremendously surprised by the ambush, and the Frost Giants battled them with little trouble, even as the numbers began to swing more in favor of the Elves as more emerged. Frost Giants hurried to the gate, including young Sjar, to make sure it held open for her. Sjar gestured, swinging his mace to block the way. "Come, Aesir!" 

The Alfar were still coming out of the tunnel, some with raised hands of surrender. At first the Frost Giants hit them, until Frigga yelled, "Stop! Stop! They surrender!" 

But then it became even worse, as she realized these later arrivals were not warriors at all. 

She ran forward. "Sjar, no!" She screamed as he swung his mace at the next one to emerge - a child held in his unarmed mother's arms. 

Volstagg hurled his axe, striking the mace and spinning it away. 

Sjar turned infuriated eyes on her. "Sjar, no! Look at them! Look at them!" she shouted in plea. "They are not warriors, where is the honor in slaughter?" 

He blinked away the haze of battle, and he stared at the female and her child for a moment, before he seized the wrist of the Frost Giant beside him, who was about to hit them. "No!" 

"What is happening?" Frigga ran closer and demanded of the frightened mother. "Why are you fleeing?"

But she had no answer, her eyes wide with terror and she looked up at the Frost Giants and cradled her child. "Volstagg!" Frigga called. "Fandral, Sif. You three must help Sjar with these." For there were more following the woman, as the Frost Giants began herding them away from the gate. 

"My queen, you do not intend to go in there!" Fandral exclaimed.

"I do. Hogun, with me." Putting a hand on Hogun's forehead, she closed her eyes and cast the illusions over herself and him. She did nothing with their clothes or weapons; this was a poor illusion of appearance only, but it was enough. 

Something terrible was happening within. This was not luring Malekith forth, but all his people instead. 

The Dark Elves crowded the ladder upward, so Hogun dropped within the mouth of the tunnel first, landing hard but safely below. Frigga inhaled a deep breath and followed him into the dark.


	18. The Battle Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the final stretch now... I hope to hear from all you silent folk soon! (happy writers make for happy sequels. just sayin'... )
> 
> Did I mention bad things happen in this story? yeah.

* * *

Thanos approached him, footsteps echoing in the chamber. "Your pathetic race knocks upon the gate, howling for you like the beasts they are." 

"Good. I hope they butcher you like a goat," Loki snarled, letting fear transmute to fury. Because this was not good. Thanos needed to be somewhere else, not here. He could hear the battle through the opening to the sky, surely the giants were doing something useful to draw Thanos away.

Other footsteps rushed in. "My lord! They dropped frostfire down the north passage and the central ventilation shafts!" 

Loki smiled at the news that the giants had brought frostfire to the battle. It wasn't precisely magical, but the best way to combat it was with magic which should draw Thanos off.

But Thanos answered, "How unfortunate." 

"My lord, please! It's getting out of control, we need you!" 

Thanos lifted his hand and the front two guards went flying across the chamber to slam into the wall with such force that the stone underneath Loki trembled and he heard bones snap. Thanos let his hand fall and the bodies fell with it, dropping to the floor and did not move. He looked at the entryway and the other guards there. "Take care of the Jotunn animals and do not bother me again."

 _No, no, you need to go, you need to leave here so Sigyn can bring me the Casket, damn you_ …

But Loki saw those shining eyes that marked Malekith's possession by even greater evil and realized his mistake: Malekith would have gone to help his people, Thanos did not care. 

The guards fled.

Malekith's lips curved upward in Thanos' cold smile and he stretched out a hand. "You see, pet? You are all mine." 

"You will let the frostfire destroy your army? I need do nothing; you manage to ruin your plans very well on your own," Loki taunted.

"There is always another army. But you, I need." The heavy hand fell on Loki's forehead and though he tried to move away, the grip was too strong. "My pet beast."

 _No, no, I need to stop this, need to_ \-- 

The tendrils of shadow smoke sank within, this time affixing to no true memory, only a nightmare that he'd had several times since discovering the truth.

He tried to push it away, shield himself, or hold it back, but it was a ghost. "No, stop, no, I will not allow -"

The hollow cavern of his prison faded away into no true memory, but into a horror drawn from nightmare of nothing that was, but what might have been… 

_He crouched in the shadows, a feral wraith of the ice. He had no name, no speech. All he knew was that sometimes the great beasts attacked him and sometimes he attacked them. Sometimes he had his pack of snow-wolves to hunt with him, sometimes he was alone. Sometimes he ate well, sometimes he ate nothing for weeks._

_The flesh of the large red-eyed beasts was the only meat he could eat, but killing one was difficult. He learned to make ghosts of himself, and with time learned how to lure his prey with ghosts of other things._

_They tried to hunt him, but he was never caught, slipping from their snares as if they didn't exist, and his howling laughter was something that made them shiver in dread._

_Small beings more his size arrived. They were new, golden, shining so brightly it hurt his eyes. He lured one from its herd to get it alone and kill it. As they faced each other over the snow, it looked at him plainly confused by what it saw, but was no less confused than he was. Blue eyes were so strange. Was it a deer that would make him sick, or like the red-eyes? Could he eat it?_

_Blue-eyes pink-skin creature made sounds, but he knew no language except that of the snow-wolves. The strange beast was surprised by his appearance, but it was ready with its great shiny hammer, too dangerous for him to attack. It held out its free hand, as if to coax him nearer, but he melted into the shadows and went to find another, less wary prey. Soon the pale ones fought the big ones. They left red-eyed corpses in the snow before a flash of lightning pulled them away._

_There was something nearby, watching him. He could feel it; it was like the red eyes, but not. Darker. Something that smiled like frost and smelled like death._

_It was new, wrong. He tried to track it, but it was smoke. Yet there. Watching. He turned quickly and saw a shadow looming atop a hill, with gleaming white eyes and a grin that touched him in his memory. It was familiar._

_From a distance, the name came to him: Thanos._

_In the wake of the chill that crept over him, he blinked. This was wrong. He wasn't this creature that crept across the ice and did horrifying things._

_But he didn't remember who he was._

He opened his eyes. The icy realm was gone, he was in a cavern, held to a block of stone beneath him. But he remembered only ice and snow; he was a feral creature chained down. He pulled against the chains, snarling at his tormentor. 

Thanos grinned. "Ah, there you are. A beast like all the others… my pet." 

He couldn't find words to respond - he knew he had some, but they ran from him like water from his hand. Grinding his teeth together, he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. There was more, he knew there was more…. He knew **he** was more.

Yelling in frustration and knocking his head against the stone beneath him helped unlock his memories and words again, and he shouted furiously, "I am Loki of Asgard! I will see you scattered beyond Jormungandr for all eternity!" 

Thanos put his hand on Loki's forehead again, but before he could do anything more to Loki, Thanos shifted his gaze sharply toward the entry. A sharp grin spread across his face and he straightened. 

"The traitor half-breed," he purred. "Step forth, child." 

Loki turned his head to see. As he feared, Sigyn stepped into view. She was holding the Casket in her hands and lifted her chin boldly. "I - I want to ask you, brother, to use this. Stop the Frost Giant invasion before all our people...."

Thanos moved toward her, blocking Loki's view behind his bulk momentarily as she fell silent, words drying up in her throat at his approach. "You are not the liesmith my pet is, Sigyn. You know exactly who I am." 

She didn't bother trying her tale again. "Get out of my Realm, you demonspawn!" Her power swirled through the room, strong and focused on Thanos. Loki recognized it as a spell to push him out of Malekith, which was a clever choice and the most likely to work.

But Thanos batted the spell aside like an errant ball, striding toward her untouched. He tore the Casket from her grasp and tossed it contemptuously to the floor before seizing her around the neck. 

"Brother," she choked out. "Fight him--"

"No!" Loki yelled, as Thanos lifted her up, turning to display her to Loki's horrified gaze. "No, leave her alone! Your quarrel is with me…" 

"My _quarrel_ is with the Nine Realms," Thanos corrected him. "Including this one." 

Sigyn's eyes met Loki's - desperate and despairing and regretful - and her lips parted but she could make no sound with that hand on her throat. Thanos hurled her into the wall and she smashed into it with a sickening thud, sliding down and out of sight.

"Sigyn!" 

Loki screamed the words to call the spell to peel Malekith's flesh from his bones - a terrible evil spell he was not supposed to know. The collar constricted his throat, but his fury needed an outlet, needing vengeance, needing Thanos and Malekith destroyed utterly. 

Thanos staggered, but the collar bit tight, strangling Loki's breath and words to silence, so he couldn't pursue the moment's advantage. Thanos shook off the blow, but seemed a little weakened. 

But it was not enough. Loki could do no more as Thanos bore down on him. He could neither breathe or speak, and his hands were manacled too tightly to gesture even the tiniest spell of defiance. The Casket was near but might well have been on Midgard for all the good it did him. Thanos was unharmed. Sigyn was dead. 

The moment of resistance was ended. Thanos would continue to taint his memories, widen the cracks in Loki's mind, reshape his soul to darkness and hate. Loki watched him come, resigned to his fate.

 _So you were right all along, Allfather. I do not want it, but mine will be the hand that will open the door and let in the doom of the Nine Realms. Ragnarök has come. Light will die and shadows will fall, because of me._

He turned his head toward where Sigyn had fallen, though her body was out of his vision. _Forgive me._

Then he turned his eyes to look upward, to await what was prophesied.

* * *

tbc...


	19. Prince of the Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's coming swiftly to the end, everybody. Come back next Friday for the final part of Hail of Shadows! :D

* * *

As Loki looked to that dome of the sky far above, resigned to his inevitable end, the opening suddenly filled with a strange dark blue light that grew brighter, like an indigo star had fallen down the chimney straight for him.

 _Frostfire_.

It rained down on them both, splashing on Malekith's head and body, and he screamed in surprise and agony. 

It fell on Loki, too, a liquid so cold it felt like acid fell on his bare chest, running in all directions. It burned everything it touched with cobalt flame but left behind ice instead of ash.

He tried to cry out, choking on the collar's grip. His body was aflame in agony, burning, helpless under the onslaught. The frostfire spread like something alive, and frost covered his torso and up to his neck. 

At first he cursed the Frost Giants for their clumsy attack, but then, after the first wave spread over him, the frostfire stopped hurting. It left no mark and the frost did not hurt him, unlike Malekith whose white hair was burning with blue coldfire, as Thanos twirled, trying desperately to call true fire to rid himself of it. But Malekith's body had few defenses against it and the ice grew all around him, covering him in ice and snow, as the chamber turned frigid.

Loki smiled with eager anticipation, because this would not only hurt Malekith significantly, but Loki needed only a little bit more... a tiny bit of help and the frostfire to go in the right places, and he could turn this to his advantage. And whether it was his mind directing it or the frostfire itself, it did.

The frostfire spread to the chains that held Loki's legs to the altar and dripped down his arms to find his manacles. It pooled in the valley created where the collar pinched the flesh of his neck. 

He felt the exact moment the collar's molecular composition altered. He activated the potential energy he'd stored in it with a hoarse word and a mental shove. The collar splintered open. He dragged in a breath, past the painful bruises, and whispered the spell to crack the manacles and chains that held him down. 

The room was growing bitter cold and frostfire was crawling along the floor and heading for the walls, as he sat up. He rejoiced in the cold; it would be dangerous for anyone else, but for him, it matched the cold rage that filled him. It was all _his_ : all this power belonged to him, the frostfire belonged to him. He pulled its power into himself, halting its progress and draining the fire from it to renew his own strength and stand. He held out a hand, and the Casket flew to him as if it was coming home. 

The ice exploded away from Thanos. Malekith's hair and much of his clothes were burned off and the damaged half of his face looked worse, gray and pitted by frostbite. But Thanos' power animated him still, a rictus of a grin on his face, and his eyes glowed with his hatred for all life.

"And now, we have a reckoning," Loki murmured, gaze fixed on him. He held up the Casket in both hands as the pale pink unfurled over the blue in his hands and the gold-chased royal Asgardian armor and his cape flowed into place with easy familiarity.

Thanos said in scorn, "You wear their armor, wear their face, but you are no Aesir."

"Not by blood," Loki agreed with a strange yet welcome calm. He was done being easily provoked with the truth and letting Thanos manipulate his rage. His blood had kept him alive when the frostfire poured down and freed him from his bonds, but now he needed the Aesir training that enhanced and expanded his Jotunn power. Before, he had felt he belonged to neither but now, for the first time, he felt he understood, he was a being never before seen in the Nine Realms.

He was not one nor the other: he was both. He was a power made for the twilight of days and the death of gods.

With an icy clarity of mind and vengeance a hunger within, he called the Casket's power into his grip. Using the same spell Sigyn had tried, but far stronger now, he _reached_ for Thanos to rip him out of Malekith's body and crush that bodiless spirit. 

Thanos countered, blocking him, but his counter-attack was no blow, only a whisper of influence. A shadow descended. 

"No." Loki staggered back a step, struggling to force it away, and stop the insistent vision from burrowing in his mind. 

Loki attacked again, the Casket rousing the frostfire into a wall of cobalt flame and ice hurtling at Thanos. 

Thanos shielded himself from the attack and spoke words of activation. 

Surprised, Loki glanced behind as a portal formed, powered by the dim lines of force beneath his feet. They had been hidden by the frost before, but now he saw this whole chamber was a work room with pre-drawn lines in the stone, circles and triangles set inside one another, runes and glyphs carved for power and protection, and Thanos woke them for a portal. 

Snarling defiance, Loki hurled the power of the Casket at Thanos, who held up a palm to reflect it against him. 

Loki fell backward, and he clutched the Casket tightly, still trying to reach Thanos, reaching for more power. Glancing in the direction Sigyn had fallen, he remembered his promise. She was dead because of him, at least he could save her people -- _Only Malekith and Thanos, keep control..._ When he tried again, he focused the power entirely on peeling Malekith free from his possession. All around him, the power of the Casket screamed and swirled.

But Thanos did not surrender. He struck again, shoving Loki back another step, while another vision seized his mind…

_The pale ones come back, but this time they come for him, catching him in a net. He hisses and throws his magic and his knife, but he can't get free. They haul him to a place too bright, too big, and put him in a cage. He snarls and screams, and he beats at the walls, wanting out, but there is no out. Their food makes him sick so he stops eating. He curls up in the corner, as the weight of the cage and the lights and the heat press down on him._

_The pale pink ones visit. They speak, but it is only empty noise. The one with the long golden hair seems to want something from him, her eyes soft with pity. Fearless, she enters his cage, kneels before him, and holds out her hand to him. Though he expects a blow, he is too weak to move or attack. Her touch is gentle as she smooths his matted hair. He thinks about biting her or clawing her white flesh to make her go away, but he also wants her to stay. He closes his eyes and dreams of being free on the ice_.

He was dimly aware that was not him. It was a dream, a nightmare. It was not the truth and yet it felt true. He cast a freezing spell at Thanos, trying to freeze Malekith's body to icy death and force Thanos out. But even then, he saw the cage in Asgard, and he felt Frigga's hand on his hair as she soothed the wild animal who was not her son. 

Thanos cast a blow of force, and Loki stumbled backward. His boot and the hem of his cape crossed the event horizon of the portal, and it seized him. 

Thanos grinned in vicious delight. The demon eyes went blank, and Loki's last sight of Svartalfheim was of Malekith's body collapsing to the floor, a broken discarded toy. 

The plains of ice called him, whispering that was where he belonged. He was one of those lonely shadows, waiting in the blowing snow. The cage was too bright and warm, and he wanted to make it colder, more like home.

But Asgard… was it not home?

A faint whisper came from his throat, in desperate, lost plea: " _Amma, help me_."

But it was too late. The portal pulled him in. Squeezing him tightly in transition, it spat him out the other side, far from Svartalfheim.

Unaware of where he was, or who he was, while in his hands the Casket roared with power unleashed, 

Loki fell.

* * *


	20. Sunrise in a Dim Frosted Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! The final chapter of **Hail of Shadows** (if not the final chapter of _Understanding the Storm_...) 
> 
> I hope you've all enjoyed it and please let me know what you think!

* * *

Frigga barely needed an illusion to cover her and Hogun at all. The dark elves were fleeing, terrified as the frostfire spread unchecked in the tunnels. 

_Ancestors, this was a calamity_ … There was no organization, so much panic making everything worse. "Where is Malekith?" she demanded of several dark elves. Some had no idea, some thought he was dead, but a few pointed her downward, even as they warned her that it was a deathtrap below. But they were hopeful that she could find him - or anyone - to help them. 

A nearby infestation of frostfire pulled her to deal with it. Hogun protesting, "My queen, no!"

She ignored him; she was here for Loki, but she was not here to watch an entire civilization die for him either. 

Bitter cold emerged from the tunnel, every surface glowing pale blue as it flowed toward the intersection of the main tunnel. If it reached the great hall from here, the whole palace would be lost. She held the hilt of her sword and called the warmth of summer: the gold and green of the fields of Asgard, the clear azure skies of Midgard, the aqua of the shallow seas of Vanaheim… cherry blossoms, the hum of bees, the laughter of children ... The sounds and sights of life and light ... and she sent the power of those things at that creeping death and cold.

It melted. The coldfire dwindled and faded to white frost. Frigga lowered her hands, weary but satisfied. At least that was done. 

"Lady Sigyn?" a tentative voice asked at her back and then took a confused step away as Frigga turned, still embracing her dark elf illusion. "No, forgive me, you are not Lady Sigyn. Lady…?"

Frigga ignored the question, to ask her own. "Malekith. Where is he?"

But then, Malekith's whereabouts no longer mattered, as power abruptly blazed on her senses, stirring the aether. _So much power… The Casket of Ancient Winters_ … that meant Loki, and Thanos, his taint like a shadow of death rushing through the tunnels, thick enough everyone should have tasted it. 

They were in combat. 

Frigga ordered the dark elves who had watched her. "Evacuate. Everyone. Now." 

Then, heedless of queenly dignity or her illusion or anything else at all, she started to run toward that battle. Hogun paced her, and they kept their weapons ready, but they found no one down in the depths. Either this area was normally sparsely populated, or they had all evacuated the area. It helped her move quickly, but also meant there was no one to show her the route so they had to backtrack twice. Still the battle raged, power unleashed, such that she had not felt in centuries.

She felt a touch, then, a green glow in the aether brushing her with fierce need, in a silent cry for help. "Loki!" But even as she reached out for him, it vanished.

And the battle ended. The beacon of that battle was simply … and ominously… gone. She stumbled, Hogun catching her arm. "My queen?" 

"Something… happened. We must hurry." 

They found other workrooms, deserted. The tunnel became rimed with frost and it was cold, but the frostfire had died. She knew she was getting close when she found the bodies of several formal guards, overwhelmed by the frostfire. 

She burst through an archway into a round work room, and she knew immediately this had been the epicenter of the battle. Wild magic still careened in the room, fierce freezing winds whipping around the chimney. In the center was a narrow sacrificial altar, surrounded by power sigils and runes carved into the floor. The chains and manacles attached to it were broken, but she knew Loki had been held there. 

Loki was not there, but there was someone on the floor, with melted armor and ragged white hair. Hogun knelt near him, weapons extended warily to prod the body. "My queen, it is Malekith."

"Dead?"

Hogun shook his head. "Shall I?"

But before she could decide, a moan from benath the side overhang interrupted. Frigga hurried over to find another dark elf, slumped down against the wall, her eyes flickering open and her face crumpled in pain. 

Frigga knelt before her. "Sigyn," she called softly, for who else would it be? 

The girl's eyes found her and frowned curiously, whispering with difficulty, "Who--? I sense power, but you are strange to me."

Frigga let go of the illusion on her appearance. "I mean you no harm, child. I am Frigga of Asgard." 

Sigyn's lips parted in amazement. "Queen Frigga? You have come…" 

"Indeed I have." Frigga rested a gentle hand on her forehead to check her aura and catalog her hurts, then prepared her powers. Sigyn gasped, eyes flaring wide as Frigga's healing rushed through her. It also stripped the illusion which she held over her appearace as well, and Sigyn turned gold-touched as her Ljosalfar blood appeared. It was a lovely and aethereal combination, like a sunrise in this frosted, dim place. 

Sigyn gasped, green eyes widening in dismay, as she realized what the healing had done. But Frigga's hand was gentle on her cheek. "You are beautiful. Please, leave it." 

"Beautiful?" she repeated and choked a bitter laugh that echoed another Frigga had grown familiar with. "He said the same to me, but I thought he was lying." 

"It is no lie, Sigyn, I promise. But please, tell me of him - what happened to Loki?" 

"I saw… a portal," Sigyn began haltingly, more from uncertainty than lingering pain. Given her wounds and the power unleashed in this room, Frigga admired that she had been able to see anything at all. "My brother - Thanos possessed him. Thanos forced Loki through the portal. I know not where." 

"Thanos possessed him?" Frigga drew back in alarm and glanced to where Hogun still stood watch over Malekith's body. 

Hogun prodded him with a boot and got no response. "I think not, my queen. This is only Malekith." 

"Loki was trying to separate them. I could feel that much, so perhaps he succeeded at the last," Sigyn said and pushed herself more upright, clenching her jaw when she saw Malekith's body. "Is he dead?"

"No, princess," Hogun answered. "Unless you wish it."

"He will be wroth with me, for betraying him for Loki, but --" she hesitated, biting her lip in distress. "He is my brother. I cannot."

"Then we will not," Frigga decided. "Perhaps being host to Thanos has taught him a lesson. We need to go before he rouses. Will you go with us, Sigyn?" 

Sigyn said with soft uncertainty, "He said I should go with you." 

Frigga cupped her face between her fingers. "Loki made special effort to tell me to help you." 

"He did?" Sigyn smiled, her green eyes lighting, and Frigga recognized that look with hope. If she could nurture that sprout of feeling into love, then her son might have a mate finally worthy of him. 

She helped Sigyn to her feet. "Hogun, help Lady Sigyn. I need to check something before we go." 

The portal had unraveled but the traces were fresh and readable. It gave her a surprising destination answer, which seemed more troubling the more she considered.

Frowning, she turned back to Hogun and Sigyn, sparing a glance at Malekith. Had he been a willing ally or a passive victim of Thanos' manipulations? It would take more time than she had to unravel the truth, and perhaps it should be Sigyn and Loki's decisions. 

It was time to go back, before her other warriors grew impatient. "We need to go. Many of your people fled the frostfire and are now prisoners of the Jotnar above. They would probably like to see you." 

"Am I prisoner, too?" Sigyn asked.

Frigga returned to her. Sigyn's hands were cold, and Frigga clasped them. "Dear Sigyn, you helped my son. More than you know. So I owe you a debt I can never repay. You are under my protection, and I promise you will be safe. You are my guest, not a prisoner." She freed one hand to tuck a loose pale golden lock behind Sigyn's ear, thinking wistfully of daughters she had never had. "But we need to go, if you are coming." 

"Yes. I will." Sigyn restored her dark elf appearance and followed them out. She looked at her brother once, glancing back from the entryway but then turned forward and did not look back again. She guided Frigga and Hogun through the labyrinth, and on their way, she and Frigga dampened what frostfire they found, and Frigga was impressed by her control. Sigyn also handled her people with a gentleness that Frigga would not have expected from the daughter of Durn the Cruel. 

As Sigyn coaxed her people up a narrow staircase toward a secret exit, Hogun lingered near Frigga and asked, in a low voice, "Where is he? You looked disturbed." 

"Midgard. Thanos sent him to Midgard." 

Hogun frowned. "But surely that is good news. Thor is there, is he not?" 

Frigga shook her head slowly, doubting that it was good news at all. "Thanos would not send him there for good purpose. Nor would he relinquish the Casket and Loki unless he had another means to achieve his goal. No, there is some dark plan in motion, I fear. Something we do not know."

Loki had kept Thanos from entering the Nine Realms in full, and he was now free of Malekith. Both of those were victories. But she knew the war was not yet won. And she had yet to discover Loki's state -- Was he hurt? Was he trapped in Thanos' fell influence again? What had happened during his time in captivity? She would need to discover that, though she would have much to manage in the aftermath here as well.

She crawled out of the small gate into the open air and rose to her feet. Some distance away, she saw the huddled mass of white-haired Dark Elves and the towering forms of Frost Giants, all milling about in confusion. Sigyn started toward them, before retreating back to Frigga in uncertainty. 

Casting her eyes to the steel-gray clouds, Frigga sent a prayer toward both her sons, now on distant Midgard: 

_Find your brother, Thor, I fear he needs you desperately. Loki, remember who you are and who you are not. Listen to your heart, not to the dark whispers Thanos left within you. Be strong, my son, and you may yet defeat this evil that pursues you._

end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> I'd love to hear from my readers! Feedback is inspirational, you know... you don't want Loki falling to Earth forever, right? ;P 
> 
> To be continued in **Understanding the Storm, Part V: Comes the Hurricane**  
>  _When Loki returns to Earth, the dark plans of Thanos come to fruition. It will take more than Asgard to confront and defeat this rising storm..._
> 
> NOW POSTING!!! [ Comes the Hurricane ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4906252)


	21. Chapter 21

If you happen to have this story marked in some way and not the series itself, this is for you:

 

The next main story, after Hail of Shadows, COMES THE HURRICANE,  HAS BEGUN TO POST.

 

[Comes the Hurricane](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4906252)

 

 


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